Eyes Wide Shut
by marvindamartian
Summary: (Formerly AAWIH, took the title but not plot from a movie) Four people, all as different as night and day...Four people, changed forever...Four people, their destinies hopelessly entwined forever. DG, HOC
1. Back to School

Author's Notes: Ok, so here's the first chap of the new An American Witch in Hogwarts, well, except now it's Eyes Wide Shut. I hope you like it, but keep in mind; it will be different from the old one.  
  
Disclaimer: Now now, I hope we haven't forgotten the old slogan? Don't own, don't sue.  
  
~*~*~Eyes Wide Shut: Ch.1-Back To School~*~*~  
  
I've been looking so long at these pictures of you  
  
That I almost believe that they're real  
  
I've been looking so long at my pictures of you  
  
That I almost believe that the pictures are all I can see  
  
-The Cure, Pictures of You  
  
Beep Beep Beep.   
  
"Shrrrhmmkka, shadditoff."  
  
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.  
  
"No, donwanna gerrup."  
  
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!  
  
"GAH!" A figure, completely cocooned in pale pink sheets, the only part of her showing a head of flaming red hair, rolled off the small bed to the carpet below with a thud. "Ow."  
  
And thus, Ginny Weasley was awake, and ready for her first day of sixth year at Hogwarts.  
  
*~*~*  
  
The black drapes shifted open magically, at precisely seven o'clock, sending the bright rays of the morning sun over the bed and its inhabitant.   
  
"Oh Merlin, no," the person groaned, turning over to shield his face from the light. A pale hand rose from the black sheets to cover his eyes. "Will someone close those stupid blinds?!?" His voice was hoarse from sleep.  
  
A house-elf scurried in within moments, standing at the foot of the bed, fidgeting with her bandaged fingers (she had dropped two plates the night before). "Mistress has said you must be getting up now," she chirped at him.  
  
Draco Malfoy's only answer was to groan and turn over.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"DON'T YOU JERKS TOUCH ME!!! NO, AHH!!! HEY, I KNOW MY RIGHTS!!!!"  
  
"Save it for the judge, ki-Ow! She bit me!!"  
  
"Hah, serves you right, you dirty ape, now hands off the merchandise!!!"  
  
The two security guards finally dragged the struggling girl to the door, and tossed her out of the Macy's. The one not nursing his bitten hand sighed. "Listen, girlie, we know you're a minor and homeless, so we'll let you off with a warning this time, so long as you get yourself to a shelter or something," he told her almost pleadingly. The girl scowled.  
  
"I'm not homeless! I've got a home, more than one in fact!"   
  
The other man stopped rubbing his hand regretfully. "Then go!" He said, his voice whiny with pain and annoyance.   
  
She scrambled to her feet on the dirty sidewalk as quickly as she could, flipping her chin-length dark purple hair away from her face, revealing two eyebrow piercings and a dark expression. "Fine," she growled out through gritted teeth.   
  
The girl then shoved past the two men roughly, taking care to stick her nose as high in the air as she could. They rolled their eyes and went back into the store. Her kind was seen more than enough every day. They couldn't stop and care about each one.  
  
*~*~*   
  
The Burrow was unusually quiet for the first day back at Hogwarts. In, it was the quietest it had ever been.  
  
Ron and Harry had been staying at Hermione's house the past couple weeks. 'Guess they're still celebrating,' Ginny thought with slight disgust as she shifted through a pile of worn clothes, wrinkling her nose at everything. Finally, she just sighed and chose a faded Weird Sisters shirt, with several holes, and equally patched up old jeans of Fred's. Ginny had to tighten her belt as much as she could just so they'd stay up.  
  
She hopped down the stairs calmly, strolling into the kitchen and checking Errol for the post. Four bills, a letter for Ron, junk, junk, junk, and a promotional offer addressed to A. Weasley. Ginny grimaced at that. 'When will they stop addressing it to him?' Ginny shook her head regretfully and shoved it in her back pocket, taking care not to let any part show. It was almost habit now.  
  
Ginny poured herself some cereal, and made tea, taking both into the living room. She sat on the couch, staring at the TV. She somewhat wanted to turn it on, but was reluctant to disturb the silence and her mother.  
  
So she just sat there, staring at the blank screen and thinking.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Draco sat on one side of their big dining table for breakfast. He glanced at the other end, but his mother wasn't there. Frowning, he yelled for his house-elf, Tinkle.  
  
"Tinkle! Get in here you filthy little wart!" He yelled, thinking vaguely, 'Ooh, wart, that was a good new nickname,' all the while smirking horridly.  
  
Tinkle sprinted in, sliding slightly on the floor but regaining her balance just before she reached Draco. "Yes Young Master Malfoy?" She asked, yellow green eyes bulging. She was wearing a white pillowcase with a monogrammed DM in the corner. She had been Draco's fifth birthday present.  
  
He scowled inwardly at the "Young" part. "Where's my mother?" He barked at Tinkle.  
  
"Missus is in the church," she told him.  
  
He now scowled openly, staring at the wall. "Fine, dismissed," he told her absently, running a hand through his pale blonde hair. Twinkle's brow (if she had one) furrowed in confusion, until Draco gave her a sharp kick in the side. As she hobbled away, she sighed in relief. For a second she had thought something was wrong with him.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Harry Potter, defeater of Lord Voldemort, and the savior of the wizarding world, rolled over onto his back, yawning widely before groping for his glasses and jamming them on his nose. He lay there for a bit, basking in the afterglow of a full night of sleep happily. Harry then sat bolt upright on his makeshift bed as he remembered he had to go back to his school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that day.  
  
He was in the living room of the Granger house, on September first. In a couple of hours he'd be boarding the Hogwarts Express and going off for his seventh and last year at Hogwarts. Ron Weasley, his best friend, was still snoring soundly next to him, but he could hear Mrs. Granger and Hermione (Mr. Granger was on a business trip) bustling about in the kitchen adjoining the room.  
  
"Ron," Harry said, giving his redheaded friend a shove. "Ron, get up."  
  
Ron mumbled something about chicken and turned away from the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry rolled his eyes and just jabbed Ron harder, pushing him off the small mattress and onto the carpeted floor with a thud.  
  
"Ow." Ron's voice was muffled by the floor under his face.  
  
Harry chuckled a bit and stood up, stretching his arms above his head before padding through the swinging door into the kitchen. "Good morning, Mrs. Granger, 'Mione," he yawned.  
  
They both greeted him happily, and Hermione excused herself to go wake up Ron. Harry and Mrs. Granger made polite conversation for a bit, before Harry decided to get changed and pack up his bags. When he was fully awake and done with that, he headed back down the hall towards the living room.   
  
On the way, he passed by Hermione's room. The door was ajar, and some noises were coming from inside. He peeked through, and the sight that met his eyes wasn't entirely a surprise.   
  
Ron and Hermione were on her bed, giggling and kissing each other slightly, while Ron tried to tickle her. Hermione kept squealing, and batting his hands away to scold him, but she just ended up kissing or touching him again.  
  
Harry watched them in silence before walking past.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Aunt Esther? Hello? Anyone home?" The girl walked through the door of the large home slowly, frowning as she called. She gave a surprised face, before shrugging and shutting the door behind her. However, she had only gone about four steps before a middle-aged woman in frilly black dress robes ('Of course,' she thought with an inward sigh. 'She's in mourning.') wearing oversized pearls walked down the elaborate staircase towards her.   
  
"Evelyn, darling, you mustn't stay at school so late anymore, I have very important news to tell you," Esther said. Her voice was just a bit too high to be comfortable listening to, and she always spoke annoyingly softly.  
  
"It's Evie," the girl grumbled under her breath, but she followed her aunt into her small study anyways.  
  
Evie fell back on the velvety black couch ungracefully, not bothering to cross her jean-clad legs. "Yes, Auntie, what is it?"  
  
Esther Ashton smacked her lips slightly before she began talking. "Well, I know you've had some, problems, adjusting to living with me," Evie snorted inwardly at that, she made it no secret that she hated it here, "so I was just thinking, how about you go stay with my cousin and her family? I think you know them, the Malfoys."  
  
Evie's eyes widened impossibly, and she jumped out of her seat. "WHAT?!? I HAVE TO LIVE WITH THAT JERK DRACO AND HIS PARENTS?!?!?"  
  
Esther pursed her lips tightly. "Now, now, Evelyn Marianna Ashton, you will not yell at me in this household," she scolded viciously, watery blue eyes almost bugging out of her head.  
  
Her niece just shook her head slowly. "No."  
  
"What did you just say?" Esther's voice was dangerously soft, and Evie was immediately wary of any movement that might reveal her aunt going for her wand.  
  
But she still held her ground. "No, Auntie, not this time. I've been shuffled around too many goddamn times! And now, you're sending me to live with the devil himself! God, just when I was starting to get happy again, now that he's gon-" Evie cut herself off, and stared down at the ground.  
  
Esther stood up, drawing herself up to her full five and a half feet impressively. "Do not talk to me in that tone of voice, and most of all, do not even *dare* to rejoice right now!" Suddenly she stopped and dabbed theatrically at her eyes with a sniffle. "Oh, my most precious Lord, when will you be back again?" Esther wailed at the ceiling.  
  
"Wait a minute, why are you looking up? I thought hell was that way," Evie remarked nastily, pointing downwards lazily.   
  
She thought her aunt would blow her top again, but this time, she just smiled, her fake pearly whites shining brilliantly. Esther pulled her wand out in a flash and shrieked, "Petrificus Totalus!" while pointing it at her niece.   
  
Evie's arms and legs sprang together instantly and her jaw snapped shut audibly, before she fell to the floor with a sort of clatter noise. She gave a strangled growl deep in the back of her throat, but that was all. Esther gave a sniff of satisfaction, and sat down at her desk, completely ignoring the teenager now glaring as well as she could at her.   
  
A little while later, suddenly she threw down the quill she was using with a horrified face. "Oh my word, I had completely forgotten!" She exclaimed. Esther grabbed a silver bell and rang it loudly, within moments a ghost floated into the room. Evie could have grinned. Finally, her aunt had remembered her! 'Maybe now she'll undo this damn spell.'  
  
"Yes miss?" The ghost butler asked her, voice grave, as usual.  
  
Esther waved a hand towards Evie. "Pack her things, she's going to England."  
  
'Damn her.' Evie thought.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Ginny," those voices, usually laughing uproariously or loudly cracking a joke, were mere whispers. "Hey Gin, we're here to take you to the station."  
  
Ginny snapped out of her trance, and stood up to greet her twin brothers, Fred and George. They had grown taller than she remembered, and were now crowding the narrow hallway as they stood there, waiting for her.  
  
"Hey, I'll be back in a second, I just need to grab my trunks," she told them, standing up slowly.  
  
Fred flapped a hand at her. "Naw, it's ok Ginny, I'll get your stuff," he said, before jumping up the stairs quickly, leaving George and Ginny alone.   
  
"So, how've you been, Ginnykins?"  
  
Her eyes flickered for a second at his childhood nickname for her, before she smiled slightly. "I'm alright," she said quietly. Ginny glanced deliberately up at the ceiling, and her brother, about to start speaking again, followed her gaze and quieted.  
  
"I'm just asking," George told her, voice back to that hoarse whisper. "Because, well, I feel rather guilty that I left you with Mum all summer. I know Ron left too, so, how've you been holding up with her?"  
  
Ginny felt a pang in her heart at his words. "I've been fine, honestly. Mum's doing better anyways, she just sleeps a lot now," her voice was slightly stiffer, colder than before. She couldn't tell if he picked up on that, because Fred chose that moment to reappear at the top of the stairs.   
  
They made their way out of the house quickly and quietly, the occasional thud or grunt being the only noise that broke the silence.  
  
They climbed into the twins' orange Jeep and drove off, with little or no talking. Ginny shifted half in her seat, feeling the seat belt tighten, constricting her shoulder. She gazed back at the Burrow. For once, it was now both quiet and dark.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Draco braced himself for a moment, before tugging briskly on the handle of the huge door and walking through it.  
  
Instantly he shivered. It was freezing in the Malfoy Church. Before the war, he could have counted his visits on one hand, with plenty of fingers left, but ever since, it seemed that he was visiting almost once a day.   
  
The Malfoy Church was one of the darkest places in the Manor, with thick black and gray drapes covering the dusty stained glass windows. He was rather glad they were covered. All the windows depicted scenes of extreme violence and bloodshed. Draco could remember almost crying when he saw them as a child.  
  
The floor was crudely cut stone, worn smooth by time, from a now empty quarry on their lands. The pews were some dark wood, polished and smoothed at every opportunity, and since it was such a small, personal church, there were only five rows on either side of the aisle. Up at the front, kneeling on the altar, Draco could see his mother, though she was completely covered in black. He sighed inwardly.  
  
"Mother, I'm leaving now. The train is departing soon," he called out, coming to a halt in the middle of the aisle. He didn't dare get any closer.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy stood slowly, still weeping slightly, though her face was partly obscured by a black veil.  
  
"Already?" She sniffled, heart-brokenly.  
  
He inclined his head slightly. Much to his surprise however, she didn't burst into full-fledged tears. She only walked up to him, and dabbed at his Head Boy badge with her handkerchief lovingly. "My Draco," she smiled softly, "as Head Boy. Oh, you're turning out just like your father!" At this she sobbed again, and turned away from him. Draco left slowly, her last words echoing in his mind.  
  
"Just like your father…"  
  
'Well, at least I'm still alive,' he thought bitterly.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"YOU WANNA HEX ME, I'LL HEX YOU, YOU WANNA CURSE ME, I'LL CURSE YOU, AND IF YOU MESS WITH ME, YOU'RE GONNA GET IT JUST AS GOOD!" The song blasted out of the car radio, making Ginny's ear drums pulse and ache slightly. Fred was banging his head along with the fast beat, while George, who was driving, was screaming the words along with the lead singer.   
  
Ginny wished she was back at home with the only the dull quiet to wrap around her.   
  
She was shaken out of her thoughts by a sharp turn. She glanced up with surprise. "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the station," Ginny asked with confusion.  
  
Fred turned around in his seat to face her. "I know, we promised Mrs. Granger that we'd pick up Harry, Ron, and Hermione. You don't mind do you?"  
  
Ginny shrugged. "It's fine, we've got time," she told him. She had turned back to the window, before remembering something and twisting to face him again. "Wait a minute, Hermione lives in Lancaster! How will we get there?"  
  
George laughed a bit. "That's the thing we were asking you about. If we, just happened, to 'accidentally' use a 'borrowed' Portkey, you wouldn't tell, would you?" He asked her, face in the rear view mirror a mix between amused and nervous. Fred had turned around, and was watching her anxiously as George pulled into a secluded, woody area. She laughed. It felt just like old times.  
  
"Of course not," she reassured them.  
  
Fred beamed at her and turned back, just in time to join in the last chorus of the song with George. Ginny found herself glad when the music finally died.  
  
The car rolled to a halt, and Fred pulled out a small box. He flipped the lid to reveal a crushed soda can. "Ready?" He asked his siblings. They nodded, and put their hands on the metal, and before long, they felt that familiar tug and off they went.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Harry stifled a yawn, and checked his watch. The train left in an hour. The watch was a birthday present from Hermione and Ron, and it corresponded exactly to the lunar time. That was Hermione's addition. Ron added the lady who shed her clothes every hour.  
  
Harry grinned slightly, remembering the fight they had had. Eventually, though, a compromise had been reached. She now only stripped at noon and midnight.   
  
Harry put his hand down again, and shifted Hedwig's cage to under his other arm. Ron, Hermione and Harry were all waiting outside her house for the twins and Ginny to pick them up for the ride to the station. Mrs. Granger was fussing about her only daughter, even more emotional than Hermione herself at the prospect of her last year at Hogwarts.  
  
He wondered vaguely about life after Hogwarts. What if he didn't become an Auror? Would he just work at the Ministry? Harry shuddered inwardly at the thought.   
  
Luckily, he was stirred from his thoughts by Fred, George and Ginny Portkeying in. His head snapped up, and he grinned at the sight of the twins.  
  
"Hey!" He cried out, rushing up to greet them along with Ron and Hermione. Ron hadn't seen his brothers in almost a month, and his little sister about three weeks. Hermione and Harry had gone longer without the jokesters. Soon the air was filled with greetings.  
  
"Alright, alright, I think we've been properly reacquainted," George said with a grin. "We should get going."  
  
They all said their goodbyes to Mrs. Granger, who simply covered her face with a handkerchief and made shooing motions with her hand as she wept. Hermione shook her head slightly as her mother left.  
  
"Everyone ready?" Fred asked, holding a different box, this time with a rusted nail inside. Everyone touched it, and instantly they got back to the car. They all piled in, and off to the station they went.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ginny sank into the plush seat of the Hogwarts Express and gazed out the window at the changing scenery with relief. It was oddly comforting to know that all you had to do for the next several hours was sit. They had actually arrived early for once, but due to the rush, plus the added factor of finding a compartment, she had only sat down once the train had already started.  
  
Ron, Harry, and Hermione were at the Head Boy/Girl/Prefect's meeting. Hermione, of course, had been appointed Head Girl, just as surely as Harry and Ron were prefects. All had been mystified when Harry didn't receive the Head Boy badge, but they wrote it off as another one of Dumbledore's unknown-yet-still-oddly-understandable reasons.   
  
The train went inside a tunnel, plunging the compartment into darkness. Soon after, the lights flickered on. It was a long tunnel, almost the entire train ride, Ginny knew from the train home last year. They had had to find a new route when the old train tracks had been destroyed.  
  
The compartment door slid open, and Ginny let her head fall slightly on her shoulder, and closed her eyes slightly, faking sleep. She didn't feel like talking to any one, especially since the conversation would probably be mindless chatter about their summers. Ginny almost shuddered at the thought, but remembered just in time not to. Most sleeping people don't shudder randomly.  
  
There was a sigh, and light footsteps as the person walked in and sat down on the seat across from her. She risked squinting her eyes open slightly, and almost gasped.  
  
Draco Malfoy was sitting across from her.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Draco stifled a yawn. He was in the Prefect's meeting, and it was boring. Granger had taken over as soon as she stepped in the door, of course, talking about some dumb little house elf thing, and Weasley and Scarface kept shooting him dirty looks. Every time they did, Draco would shine his badge obnoxiously.  
  
However, after a while, it got a bit tiring to keep up with baiting them. He caught the Mudblood's eyes and jerked a hand to his wrist, tapping on an invisible watch. She got the hint, tinged pink, and dismissed them all. From the way most of the younger students almost ran out, Draco could tell he hadn't been the only bored one in the room.  
  
He strode down the train, occasionally checking in compartments to see if they were empty. None were, stupid crowded train.  
  
Draco spotted Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Crabbe and Goyle in one compartment, but he pulled back before they saw him. He didn't want to deal with them now, with Pansy's sickening attempts to seduce him, and Blaise and his cronies talking about his father. They acted like he was a martyr.  
  
Draco almost gagged at the thought.  
  
So, he bypassed that compartment and moved on. Pretty soon, he came to one compartment near the back; actually it was the last one. There was no noise coming from it, so Draco assumed no one was inside.  
  
Draco stepped through, then sighed. There was someone in it; a girl, who looked like she was sleeping. 'Ah well,' he thought resignedly. 'There is nowhere else.'  
  
He sat down across from the girl, and scowled. She was a Weasley, Ginny Weasley to be exact. He glanced around the compartment quickly, as if it would show him another door, another compartment so he wouldn't have to sit with her. And yet, he was still in the last compartment, stuck with her.  
  
This was going to be a fun train ride.  
  
*~*~*  
  
'Three-thousand four hundred fifty-four, three-thousand four hundred fifty-five, three-thousa-' The sound of footsteps approaching stopped Evie in her counting of the ceiling dots, and she attempted to look at the door and see who it was, but it was out of her range of vision. Soon however, the person walked through the door, and she could see. Aunt Esther.  
  
Evie was still in her aunt's study, under the Petrificus Totalus spell and lying on the floor. She had been left there for hours, it was now nearly dark. She had almost given up hope that Esther would even come back. Evie wouldn't put it past her aunt to just leave her there for the night.  
  
Esther swept in, livid. She towered over the still girl, glaring horribly.  
  
"Well?" She snapped. "When were you going to tell me?" She waved a letter furiously as she spoke, and Evie, after attempting to furrow her brow in confusion, caught a glimpse of her school seal, an eagle holding a wand in his beak. 'Uh-oh…' Evie thought. 'She's found out.'  
  
Esther didn't seem to notice that Evie wasn't answering, she just turned sharply on her heel and started raving again. "Not only have you been *expelled*, you were expelled almost a week ago!! And school's only been in for two weeks!! What on earth have been doing all these days?!? Roaming the streets like all your ruffian friends? It's not enough that you look like them, with that horrid hair and those unsightly piercings-your mother would have never stood for them, that's for sure-now you have to act like them too?!?"  
  
She went on to insult Evie's intelligence, lament about something or other, but Evie had long since tuned out her aunt. Evie remembered reading a book when she was younger, in it a boy was being yelled at and he wondered if people could have ear-lids to shut out all horrible noise. She had always liked the sound of that, it made so much sense to her.   
  
Unfortunately, she didn't have any ear-lids, so her thoughts were broken through by the shrill voice of her aunt. "Are you paying attention to me at all you idiotic girl?!?" Esther shrieked. Evie would have jumped if she could, as it was, she sort of shook on the floor. Her aunt finally noticed the spell still in effect and waved her wand almost carelessly, with an impatient sigh. "Finite Incantatem," she said, then, once Evie stood, stretching and easing cramps, resumed her shrieking. 'It's like a pack of vultures, cawing shrilly as they dive in for the kill,' Evie mused thoughtfully.  
  
Finally, though, Esther stopped yelling, and just stood there, glaring profusely as she panted slightly from lack of breath. "What did you even do to get expelled?" She wondered with slight amazement.  
  
Evie scuffed a foot slightly, it was a habit she had when she got nervous. "Uhh, a variety of things, disrespect, getting into fights," her voice dropped to a mere murmur, "and the fact that I was still on probation from the alcohol fiasco last year." Her gaze dropped to the ground.  
  
Esther just inhaled sharply, then let the breath out slowly. "I'm much too tired to deal with this right now," she muttered to herself. She glanced back to her niece and her lips thinned. "Well, I suppose now I won't have to deal with the transfer papers now will I?"  
  
"Transfer papers?"  
  
She tut-tutted. "Of course. You didn't expect to just live and not go to school there now did you? No, Evelyn, you're going to Hogwarts, with your dear cousin."  
  
Evie had a sudden vision of herself having a heart attack.  
  
"…And you're leaving first thing in the morning."  
  
*~*~* 


	2. Dreaming of a New Life

Author's Notes: Soooo sorry if you asked me to email you when the fic was posted, but I accidentally deleted your reviews, so I had no idea who to email. Eep, I really didn't mean to, sorry.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. 'Cept for Evie.  
  
*~*~*Eyes Wide Shut: Ch.2-Dreaming of a New Life*~*~*  
  
"Can you believe that prat Malfoy? How did he become Head Boy?" Ron exclaimed to Harry heatedly as they walked through the train corridor, looking for an empty compartment.  
  
"Hmm, yes...odd," agreed Harry. They stopped in front of one door, but before they could open it, it slid aside, revealing a slightly startled looking Neville.  
  
"Harry, Ron, hi fellas!" He said excitedly, moving aside so they could step in the compartment. "I was just going to get some snacks from the trolley, do you two want anything?"  
  
They shook their heads no, and walked through. Inside, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnegan, two of their fellow Gryffindors, were sitting and chatting animatedly about their summers.  
  
"-When she sent me that owl, my Mum went ballistic! She's deathly afraid of birds, so she was running around the whole house. The bird got spooked and took off after her, and it was twenty minutes of utter chaos. Dad was trying to calm Mum, I was trying to catch the owl, and then, my younger sister got the letter!! She went around reciting what Parvati said for weeks; it was a nightmare," Dean was telling his Irish friend, who looked like he was about to burst into laughter. Harry and Ron grinned at each other for a second before the other two looked up and greeted them.  
  
"Harry! How's your summer been?" Asked Seamus happily. Two years before, he and his family had thought Harry was a crackpot, but after the war, his feelings changed. He wasn't the only one to have such a turn around.   
  
The Boy-Who-Lived sat across from him, next to Ron. "Not bad thanks. I got a new broom for my birthday, it's the latest, a Mercury 3000," he told them, voice slightly cocky.  
  
Dean whistled in appreciation, and Seamus' eyes widened. "Wow, Harry, that's a fantastic broom! It can go from naught to seventy in three seconds!"  
  
Next to Harry, Ron just couldn't resist. "I got to ride it," he added smugly.   
  
Harry just laughed and shoved him.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ginny felt a slight ache in her shoulder and grimaced inwardly. 'Great idea to fake sleep Gin, now you can't bloody move and you're screwing up your shoulder,' she chided herself mentally.  
  
She was on the train, and Draco Malfoy was still sitting across from her. Occasionally, she'd catch him glancing at her, but for the most part he read. She chanced a look at the title, and could have fallen asleep for real. He was reading a book about the theory of human Transfiguration.  
  
Finally, the ache in her shoulder and the annoyance of having to squint so much got to Ginny, and she decided it was probably alright for her to 'wake up' now. She did so rather theatrically, rolling over and groaning a bit, before sitting up with a yawn and rubbing her eyes. Then, of course, she spotted Malfoy and widened her eyes appropriately.  
  
"What are you doing here?" She asked him, keeping her voice properly neutral yet surprised at the same time.  
  
"Sitting." Was the only response.  
  
"Why."  
  
"There's nowhere else. Have you got a problem with that?"  
  
Ginny turned her face to the window, sighing at the black tunnel rushing by outside. She didn't have enough energy for this, their fights in past years seemed so pointless. "No, just leave me alone."  
  
*~*~*  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow inwardly at her passive attitude, but he shrugged it off. There was something different about her, but so long as she left him alone, he was fine.  
  
He turned another page in his book with a slight grimace. Transfiguration was so boring. Since the war, McGonagall had become even harsher about their Transfiguration skills. It was rather annoying, and didn't make much sense. If you were in battle, with the enemy hurling curses at you left and right, would you really stop and Transfigure a guinea pig into a rabbit?  
  
Draco didn't think so.  
  
Not that he'd had much experience in the war. Or any really. The term 'war' was quite a misnomer, it had just been one or two short battles, ending with a duel between Potter and Voldemort. The famous Dark Lord had finally exploded after a long fight, leaving Death Eaters to be caught and lives to be repaired. School hadn't even ever been cancelled. Most of the 'war' had really just been reconstruction and putting Death Eaters in Azkaban.  
  
Draco didn't even notice he was clenching his book until he heard a slight rip in the paper. He glanced down with slight shock, before smoothing it out carefully. Weasley cast a glance at him because of the noise, and he sneered at her viciously. She just sighed slightly and turned away, eyes fluttering downwards.  
  
Her eyes. That was what was so different about her.  
  
They had lost their spark.   
  
*~*~*  
  
"Hurry up, girl, or you'll be late for the first day! At this rate you'll be lucky if you get there in time for dinner!" Esther snapped at her niece, now not even pretending to care about her. Evie rolled her eyes, and stifled a yawn.  
  
"I know, I'm coming," she called from the top of the stairs, dragging a big trunk down and huffing a bit. It was heavy, and the fact that it was so early in the morning didn't help matters.  
  
Her aunt narrowed her watery eyes, but stopped yelling. Evie finally made it down the stairs, dropping the end of the trunk she was holding with a huff. "There," she sighed to the older woman. "Is this our goodbye?" Her voice was calm, with only a hint of cynicism underlying it. Esther didn't notice.  
  
"Yes, now go. I have company coming over today and I want to rid the house of your trash," Esther replied haughtily, before launching into the directions. "You'll be going to Diagon Alley, then you should go into the Leaky Cauldron and ask to use the fireplace. And no loitering! Here's your Portkey." She handed the almost dozing girl a necklace with a locket (careful not to touch the bronze locket). Evie took it with slight surprise, remembering something about the necklace. But before she could fully remember or ask her aunt, there was a tug at her stomach, and Esther and New York completely dissolved from view.   
  
She reappeared in a dark alleyway, somewhere in London. With a last glance behind her, at the manor no longer there, she slipped the necklace over her head and started off, into the bright and sunny London day.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Harry, Ron, Dean and Seamus were talking eagerly about the upcoming England Regional Quidditch Cup when Neville came back, munching happily on a chocolate frog and holding a couple more sweets in his pockets, along with Trevor the toad. He took one look at the four already occupying the only seats, and his round face fell.  
  
"Hey, where am I going to sit?" He asked anxiously. His friends looked around a bit, brows furrowed and looking slightly abashed until Harry stood up.  
  
"It's fine," he assured Neville, starting towards the door. "I should probably go start my patrol now anyways. If I see Hermione, I'll tell her you're here Ron," said Harry.  
  
Ron stiffened slightly, but Dean and Seamus didn't notice, too busy getting their sweets from Neville. "Why'd you say that?" He asked suspiciously, unconvincingly trying to make his voice neutral.  
  
Harry just shrugged and put his hands up in the universal gesture of peace. "Nevermind, I'll see you later," he muttered before striding out of the compartment quickly, sighing slightly as the door shut behind him.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ginny sighed unhappily and looked away. There wasn't really anywhere else to look, but at least the worn carpet didn't glare at her, like a certain pale, blonde Slytherin did.  
  
She vaguely considered going to sleep but she just wasn't really in the mood. Everything she could think of to pass the time seemed so mundane. Finally, with an inward sigh, she slouched down in the seat, clasped her hands on top of her stomach, and shut her eyes. Even if she couldn't sleep, she could block out everything else.  
  
Though, finally, she started drifting off. The night before, Molly Weasley had awoken after a nightmare, and Ginny had had to sit up for hours with her. So, ignoring the gentle rumbling in her stomach telling her it was time for lunch, she fell asleep.  
  
She was standing outside a house, looking up at it with mild interest. Apparently, her dream self didn't think it was at all odd for a house to be all different colors, with balconies and stairs and floors all over the place, defying the laws of physics and gravity. Ginny looked back behind her. There was a meadow of sorts, but the grass was shriveled and dying. Above it, the sky looked toxic with hints of chartreuse shining through the gray.  
  
She shivered and started to walk in the house.   
  
"Hel-hello?" She called nervously, opening the door with an ominous creak. Ginny looked around her, and shrunk back a bit. The inside of the house was drastically different from its colorful, cheery outside. It was filthy, gloomy, dark, and generally depressing in every way she could think of. Whatever furniture was there, was covered with graying sheets, and liberal amounts of dust. Spiders and rats were scurrying by her feet, and Ginny gave a whimper. Finally, she bit her lip, and headed for the stairs. She wanted to explore. Well, it wasn't even that she really wanted to, it was just that her body was moving, before her mind could register it.  
  
Ginny's footsteps echoed loudly on the rotting staircase. She made her way up the spiraling column, hand gliding gently across the railing, flinching ever so often when her palm encountered a splinter  
  
Finally, though, she reached the second floor. Suddenly she was engulfed in a sea of sterile, pristine white, so brilliant it hurt her eyes till she shut them quickly. She opened them again, and once she adjusted, she started off down the long, long corridor. Somewhere in the back of her head, the logical part of her argued that there was no way a house like this could have this long of a hallway, but she shrugged it off.  
  
There was an open doorway up ahead, and Ginny made her way towards it. By the end, she was breathing heavily, but she rested for a second before opening it more and peeking her head in.   
  
In stark contrast to the outside hall, the room was just as colorful as the exterior of the house. Different textures, from carpet to stucco, ranged over the walls. A feast for the eyes, as Ginny thought to herself. Which, was rather ironic, when she saw the person in the room.  
  
It was a young boy, with reddish brown curls, sitting in a rather plush armchair. He was wearing dark sunglasses, and his face was turned slightly away from hers, hands clasped in a gesture of calm on his lap. At first, Ginny was confused at why he'd be wearing sunglasses indoors, and why he hadn't turned to look…before it dawned on her. The boy was blind.  
  
A sound floated over to her frozen figure, and she frowned before looking at the child. His lips were moving, ever so slightly, and he seemed to be singing something. No, no, more words of it reached her and she realized it was a poem.  
  
"Between us now and here--   
  
Two thrown together   
  
Who are not wont to wear   
  
Life's flushest feather--  
  
Who see the scenes slide past,   
  
The daytimes dimming fast,   
  
Let there be truth at last,   
  
Even if despair.  
  
So thoroughly and long   
  
Have you now known me,   
  
So real in faith and strong   
  
Have I now shown me,   
  
That nothing needs disguise   
  
Further in any wise,   
  
Or asks or justifies   
  
A guarded tongue.  
  
Face unto face, then, say,   
  
Eyes my own meeting,   
  
Is your heart far away,   
  
Or with mine beating?   
  
When false things are brought low,   
  
And swift things have grown slow,   
  
Feigning like froth shall go,   
  
Faith be for aye."  
  
Then there was silence. It filled all her senses, till she was drowning in a sea of it, choking and gasping out her breaths, the dream boy fading to black, and Ginny fell to the padded floor of the room.  
  
And opened her eyes to the surprised stare of Draco Malfoy.  
  
*~*~*  
  
He watched her sleeping form out of the corner of his eyes, starting slightly when she jerked on the seat, mouth parting slightly. She started to choke, coughing horribly, and finally fell off her chair.  
  
'What in the name of Merlin is wrong with her?' He wondered with shock.  
  
Finally, though, Ginny's eyes fluttered open from her spot on the floor, and she gasped loudly.  
  
"Weasley?" He asked curiously, marking his place in the textbook and sliding off his seat. He crouched near her. "What happened to you?"  
  
She had shut her eyes again, but they snapped open once he addressed her, and she scrambled up and away from him. "I'm fine!" She snapped at him, though her voice was noticeably shaky. Draco smirked at the girl and stood elegantly, brushing off some dirt.   
  
"Oh yeah, you look perfect," he taunted, folding his arms over his chest. Above them, the lights flickered out, and the train barreled out of the long tunnel, finally emerging into a gray and bleak countryside. Ginny, about to retort heatedly at Draco, broke off and looked outside distractedly, before shaking her head and turning back to glare at him. At least she didn't seem as panicked as before.  
  
"I'm fine okay, I just had a-a weird dream. Now just shut up and sod off!" Her voice was shaking a bit.  
  
He just raised his eyebrows and fell back on the cushiony seat. "Fine, Merlin, what happened to that whole 'leave me alone, I'll leave you alone,' policy," Draco sneered, lowering his arms after using air quotes.  
  
"Nothing! Now sod OFF!"   
  
Draco jerked back. "Alright," he said with astonishment. She just bit her lip and sat back, carefully avoiding looking at him by staring out the window, eyes zipping to and fro as the countryside whipped by her.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Evie grimaced slightly in distaste as she walked through the door of the Leaky Cauldron. It was a dark, grubby little place. At the bar, a veiled witch was cackling raucously at something the toothless old bartender had said, and further down , Evie could see a pair of goblins glancing around shiftily before talking in whispers. In general, the place was a rat hole.  
  
Her aunt's last words echoed in her mind. 'No loitering,' she had ordered. Evie snorted. As if she'd loiter in a place like this. Even the air made her skin crawl, it was so thick with greasy food smells and smoke.  
  
Evie walked up to the bartender and gave a loud cough, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. The man-she could see a worn nametag reading 'Tom'-did a double-take when he saw her. She scowled inwardly.  
  
To him, she just gave a bright smile. "I need to use the fireplace. To get to Hogwarts," Evie told the man, still smiling her fakest.  
  
Tom nodded and set down the glass he was polishing. "Sure, it's right down the hallway there, then take a left. It's ten Knuts for Floo-ing," he said. She almost frowned at the accent, before where she was really hit her. 'Guess I'm gonna have to start getting used to the accents,' she thought, more than a little despondent. She hated moving. It was one of the few things that never got easier with time.  
  
Evie clenched her fists a bit. 'No more bad thoughts!' She ordered herself. Easier said than done though. Grudgingly, she paid the man (her aunt had explained the basics of European Wizarding money, it was different from America's) and set off where he had told her. She found the fireplace, and the box clearly marked 'Floo' and threw a handful onto the fire, watching it spring into huge emerald flames. Now thoroughly depressed, she called out, "Hogwarts!" and vanished through the grate.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Harry sighed and leaned against the door, sliding down it slowly till he hit the ground with a dull thud. He rubbed his temples anxiously, before shutting his eyes.  
  
His best friends were lying to him, sneaking behind his back and snogging. He felt a sudden urge to shout and punch something.  
  
But no, Harry couldn't do that. He was in a corridor of the Hogwarts Express, not the best place for tantrums.   
  
Merlin, he felt so angry! Harry could barely remember the last time he had felt like this. Well, there was last year…No. He wouldn't think of that.  
  
Harry heard some footsteps approaching to his right, and he scrambled up, smoothing his hair out automatically. It turned out to be a group of younger girls, chatting happily and rather shrilly as they walked. He shrunk back a bit, but it was no use, they had seen him. He could tell by the way their giggles immediately got louder.  
  
"Hi Harry," they all said in unison, cooing horribly at him.  
  
He nodded slightly, but they didn't seem to be moving along, so he gave an inward sigh and opened his mouth to talk. His throat closed up slightly, but the words still came out somewhat coherently. "Hello" said Harry quietly.  
  
They all smiled brightly and kept walking, laughing loudly and elbowing each other slightly, as if it was some great achievement to have Harry Potter say hi to them.  
  
He waited till they were out of sight down the corridor before spitting on the floor to get that awful taste out of his mouth.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Evie stumbled through the fireplace, eyes screwed shut, and tripped over her own feet to land on her jean clad knees on the stone floor. Even in late summer, the stone was chilled, and sent little waves of cold right through her. She scrambled ungracefully to her feet, managing to trip only a little bit.   
  
  
  
"So nice of you to join us. Miss Ashton, I presume?" Came an elderly voice from behind her. She whirled around, eyes wide and nervous.  
  
An old man, with both hair and beard long and silver with age, was reclining in an armchair behind a rather large wooden desk. His chin was resting gently on spidery fingers, his gaze level yet intense from behind half-moon glasses as he watched her. The desk was cluttered with a variety of different objects, almost none of which Evie recognized. Her eyes zeroed in on the name plate. Albus Dumbledore.  
  
She scowled. So this was her newest Headmaster. "Yep," she replied tersely.  
  
Dumbledore looked for a second like he might laugh, but instead just nodded at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Please, sit, we have many things to discuss," he told her, sitting up straighter to gesture at a chair in front of his desk. Evie sat down in it quickly, trying not to squirm under his gaze but failing.  
  
The Headmaster seemed to notice her nervousness as he gave her a rather welcoming smile. "Now, it isn't Hogwarts policy to accept any transfer students, but I found your aunt to be quite-insistent-that you join us here," he paused for a moment to open a folder in front of him. Evie presumed that was her transcript. "Hmm, fascinating…"  
  
He seemed so lost Evie gave a discreet cough. Dumbledore looked back up finally. He smiled. "So sorry, didn't mean to drift away there. Just thinking about the American school systems, they're remarkable!"  
  
Evie, not quite sure what to do, just nodded quickly. He didn't notice her silence. "Is is true, that you were able to drop whatever subjects you weren't interested in, after your first year?" Dumbledore asked, voice not dissimilar to that of an eager child's.  
  
"Yes sir, I chose to focus more on Charms, and some Transfiguration and Defense tactics. I dropped Potions and Herbology," her tone was laced with disgust at the prospect of having to take her worst subject again.  
  
Dumbledore gave a soft 'hmmm' of thought, before speaking. "This may present a problem. I fear that you'll have to take both those classes with the younger students."  
  
Evie jumped slightly. "What?!?" She gasped, before groaning. 'Not even here for five minutes and I already hate this damn school.'  
  
He seemed to sense her thoughts, because he smiled brightly. "But, there are some good points to this. You're so advanced in Charms, if you wish you may take extra courses with our Charms professor, and I don't doubt our highest level class will be rather easy. Overall, your grades should balance each other out," the Headmaster told her, beaming.  
  
Evie nodded again. School talk always put her to sleep. She started looking all around the room.  
  
It was an elegant office, no doubt about that. She was tickled to see many moving portraits (they were much rarer in New York) of all the previous Headmasters. Her gaze shifted, to a bird perch on the other side of the room. She frowned slightly.  
  
"What's that?" She asked, interrupting Dumbledore from his descriptions of all the staff, as she pointed towards it.  
  
"Ahh, I see you've noticed Fawkes' perch. Fawkes is my pet phoenix, she away as of now, unfortunately."  
  
Evie's jaw dropped. 'Okay, so maybe this school doesn't suck as bad as I thought…'  
  
*~*~*  
  
Harry leaned against the window, half sitting on the tiny ledge and his back against the cool glass. All the compartments were pretty much full, he knew for a fact, and he didn't want to go back to Ron and theirs.  
  
Harry's eyes drifted shut, as his head started to lean back, resting against the glass. He could feel the cold radiating through his clothes and chilling his back slightly, but it was in the back of his mind, a fuzzy, nagging feeling. He ignored it and sighed happily, as he felt sleep slowly wash over him.  
  
He was on a forked dirt road, surrounded by a rather thick fog. Harry seemed to be on the fringe of a forest, and one path led deep into it, dark and gloomy. The other led to the side, curving back and away from the forest.  
  
Harry shivered a bit and turned away, to walk away from the creepy forest, when he heard a laugh. It sounded like a child. In the forest. Warily, but still concerned, he jogged down the path, avoiding stray branches and rocks in his way.  
  
"Hello? Anyone there?" His voice sounded strange to his own ears through the fog, hoarse and strained. He frowned, but ignored it and kept going. The child-or whatever it was-laughed again, somewhere to his left. Harry veered off the path, now having to struggle more with trees in his way. Finally, though, he heard more sounds, louder, and he knew he was close.  
  
Knocking aside one last whippy branch, and cursing briefly when it almost hit him in the face, Harry stepped into a clearing. He gasped in horror. The one he had thought was a child looked much older. Only a few years younger than him in fact.  
  
A girl was sitting on the dirty ground, legs askew in the way a child's would be. Her clothes-an ill-fitting dress so faded it was gray-were torn and filthy, just as her ragged dark blonde hair. She looked to be thirteen or so, but was humming and giggling, swaying her head, again like a small kid. But that wasn't what had made Harry gasp.  
  
It was her body.  
  
Her arms, legs, even chest and neck, all were covered with scars. From what he could see, they formed words and pictures, intricate patterns of pain over her skin. Some were old, gleaming silver in the ill light, and some were fresh, with dried blood caked around her body. Harry saw a flash, and looked down at her hand; she was dragging a bright metal knife in the ground, stabbing randomly and laughing whenever an extra hard clod of dirt split under the knife.  
  
Finally, her head snapped up, and Harry was startled out of his trance. He tried to keep his eyes off the frightening, frightening scars, but it turned out her face was even worse to look at. Not just because of the newer looking scars scraped into her cheeks, but the vacant, dazed expression on her face and the dead look in her big blue eyes. She grinned a Cheshire cat grin (he remembered Aunt Petunia reading that Alice in Wonderland to Dudley as a child) and he stepped back subconsciously.  
  
"Hi! Why are you here?" She giggled at him, blinking innocently.   
  
Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat. She had switched from dragging the knife in the dirt around her to dragging it over her exposed thigh. He could see a skull beginning to form in bright red, childishly messy lines. "I-I don't know," he answered honestly.  
  
The girl didn't acknowledge him at all, intent on cutting away more of her flesh, grinning wildly as the blood fell more freely. Harry felt his stomach churn as he watched her. Finally, he couldn't stand it, and he strode across the clearing to her. "Stop it!"   
  
She glanced up at him, blue eyes wide and knife still moving in both hands, digging deeper. "Why?" Her voice was that of a six-year-olds.  
  
Harry gaped. "Becau-Because it's wrong! You're hurting yourself!" He said, collapsing on his knees next to her.  
  
The girl smiled playfully. "Oh no. It helps. It makes all the pain go far, far away. See?" She asked, before swiftly grabbing Harry's arm and slicing a long, deep gash down his forearm. She narrowly missed his vital arteries, but it still bled profusely and hurt like hell.  
  
He gasped and fell backwards, attempting to scramble away from her and clutch his arm at the same time, but failing. "What are you doing?" He demanded, panicked.  
  
She just laughed. "It helps. Doesn't it? Doesn't it feel better right here?" The girl insisted, grabbing him and pressing their clasped hands in front of his heart.  
  
His immediate reaction was to jerk away, grabbing the knife and denying what she said profusely. But then he thought back to the pain in his arm, which had faded to a stirring warmth through his entire body. His soul, which had felt like a leaden weight in his chest for so long, felt just a little bit brighter, everything seemed lighter.  
  
Harry's eyes had gradually shifted closed, but they fluttered open again when he felt the same sensation on his other arm. She was slicing his right forearm open now, slowly, watching the blood spill over and smiling at him.  
  
"Doesn't it feel better now?"  
  
Harry tried to deny it, but she just kept cutting.  
  
"Doesn't it?"  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
Back in reality, his eyes snapped open, as Harry fell off the window ledge to the carpet below. He blinked a bit, before staring up at the shocked face of Ron.  
  
"H-hey, Ron," he said weakly, attempting to get up. He failed. 'No wonder,' Harry thought with disgust. 'My nerves are shot.' "What are you doing here?"  
  
His best friend just gaped at him. "I was on my way to find Ginny," he murmured slowly, before his eyebrows snapped together. "What are you doing? I walked by to find you shaking in your sleep! Are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah, fine," said Harry slowly. "Just a nightmare."  
  
Brown eyes widened. "It's-it's not another vision is it?"  
  
"No!" Harry answered vehemently. Then, more to himself, he muttered, "Well, not really."  
  
Ron hadn't heard the last bit, so he just sighed in relief. "Oh, ok. You're sure you're okay?" He asked again. Harry nodded. "Then do you want to help me find Ginny?"  
  
"Sure," he said, extending an arm to be pulled up. Ron grasped his forearm, and lifted him, before dropping the arm. Harry dusted off his robes, not noticing the look of horror on his friend's face.  
  
"Harry…why are your arms bleeding?"  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ginny still had her eyes closed, dozing lightly, when the sound of the door sliding open was heard. Figuring it was either Malfoy leaving or the cart coming through, she ignored it. In five seconds, she'd wish fervently that it was just Malfoy.  
  
"GINNY ALEXANDRIA WEASLEY!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN A COMPARTMENT WITH MALFOY?!?"  
  
'Uh-oh…that'd Ron,' she cringed mentally, squinting one eye open as she heard Malfoy stand and respond.  
  
"Hey, I am right here, Weasley. I know you're poor, but are you blind as well?" He sneered viciously.  
  
Before they could get into their own little argument, Ginny snapped open her eyes and sat up with a sigh. "Everywhere else was full Ron," she explained with a slight hint of sarcasm. "Oh, and it's nice to see you too after two weeks," she added.  
  
Shoving his blonde nemesis out of the way, he pulled his little sister up and wrapped her up in a tight, if brief hug, before pushing her away to yell more. "Now, back to the question at hand. MALFOY???"  
  
"Still right here," Malfoy interrupted with annoyance. Ron gave him a scowl, and he raised pale eyebrows. "Guess I'll be leaving then," he remarked to himself.  
  
Ginny was too preoccupied trying to reassure Ron that no, she was not having a clandestine tryst in the last compartment of the Hogwarts Express, thank you very much. "RON! I don't like him at all, he wasn't trying to harass me at all either. I've been sleeping half the time anyways." She tactfully left out how shaken her dream had left her, or how Malfoy had acted afterwards. Ginny delved into her faint memories of the dream…there were some words, faint, but firmly spoken all the same, a boy, and then there was darkness…She blinked repeatedly and focused her attention on her brother.  
  
Ron pursed his lips in a very McGonagall like fashion, and sat down across from her. "Alright, I suppose." He ran a hand through his trademark Weasley red hair, slightly longer and shaggier than she remembered. Everything about him was acutely alien, from the height to the smattering of more freckles across his face and arms.  
  
Ginny was snapped out of her observations by something nagged at her mind, and she frowned. "Where are Hermione and Harry?"  
  
Her brother looked slightly panicked for a second. "'Mione is out patrolling, and uhh, Harry's in the bathroom," said Ron, his voice nervous.  
  
Ginny raised an eyebrow at his secrecy and nervousness, but kept silent, nodding slightly. Ron looked over at her, before starting to speak again. "So how's it been at home? Is Mum doing any better?" He asked anxiously.  
  
Suddenly, Ginny suddenly felt herself getting angry. 'He left me alone in the house with no one but our half comatose mother, and he doesn't even ask how I'm doing? He spent his summer partying and probably meeting girls; I had to do the shopping, the cleaning, everything!' She thought angrily, unknowingly grinding her teeth slightly. Out loud, her voice was cheery.   
  
"Ron, I'm feeling rather tired. I'll see you guys tonight, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Ginny turned on her side and curled up on the plush seat. Her brother murmured a quick goodbye, before patting her lightly on the arm. Ginny felt unreasonably disgusted by his touch, and once she was alone, rubbed furiously at her arm till her skin tingled and she was breathing heavily.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Hey, Draco! Over here!"  
  
He winced inwardly. Spotted. Damn. Plastering a sneer on his face (it was frighteningly easy to do), Draco turned and strode towards the group. "Hey," he said, inclining his head at each of them.  
  
Pansy sidled up next to him and batted her eyelashes. "Where've you been?" She purred.  
  
Draco shrugged noncommittally, shifting his gaze to look at all of his fellow housemates. There were Crabbe and Goyle, looking like huge, dark cavemen, and next to them Blaise Zabini, another seventh year. He had dark hair, smoothed down on the side, accentuating his dark eyes and sharp features. He was a bit shorter than Draco, but more solidly built. And, unfortunately, next to Draco, Pansy was standing there, in her designer dress and gaudy jewelry, though she looked remarkably better than she had during her 'gothic chick' (her words, not his) phase. Draco barely suppressed a shudder at the memory, and shoved it away to focus on what Blaise was saying as they walked away-in the direction of their compartment, Draco supposed.  
  
"-So Mother's still in the Cote d'Azur, she wanted me to attend Beauxbaton's. No way would Father let that happen, though, Grandfather is about ready to croak any day now, and I need to be here to inherit…" They all laughed at that, Draco woodenly, Pansy shrilly, and Crabbe and Goyle sniggering stupidly.   
  
By now they had reached the compartment, and while trying to pry manicured fingers off his arm, Draco drearily wondered why oh why, Apparation had to be restricted to those over seventeen.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Evie pushed her eyes onto the heels of her palms, ignoring the stars and swirls slowly forming in front of her eyes. Finally, though, she took her hands away and yawned widely.  
  
She was laying on the bed in her-temporary? Permanent? She couldn't remember-room at Hogwarts, in one of the less used halls. Dumbledore had taken care to stress the fact that the only reason she had her own room was because of her sudden arrival. 'Of course,' she thought bitterly, any previous interest in her new school now gone. 'I'm always a burden on everyone.'  
  
Evie flipped over onto her stomach, and propped her chin on her forearms, surveying the room. It was rather ugly, with grayish beige walls and mismatched furniture. The only good bit was the bed, a wonderfully made four-poster with a gauzy blue, hanging canopy. It reminded her of one of her distant cousins' bed and furniture. Elaine, was her name. She was one of the first to take Evie in, even though she'd ended up leaving after only a week.  
  
Finally, the girl wrinkled her nose and climbed off the afore-mentioned bed, making her way to her rather ratty looking bag. She dug through it till she found her book, a collection of myths and fairy tales, before sitting awkwardly in the beat up chair and beginning to read.  
  
'When in doubt, drown yourself in other things.'  
  
*~*~*  
  
A strangled hiccup, and Harry raised his eyes from the sink he was gripping tightly, to the mirror. His bright green eyes were wide and slightly bloodshot, and his inky black hair was in sharp contrast to the sickly white of his skin. He reached out a tentative hand, and splayed his fingers against the smooth glass.  
  
Then the train jolted slightly underneath him and he was snapped out of the moment.  
  
Snatching his hand back, Harry glanced around him quickly to make sure no one had come into the bathroom and seen him. The lavatory was still empty and silent around him. He breathed out a sigh of relief.  
  
He had run there after Ron had discovered his cuts to wash up, effectively postponing most of his best friend's questions. Though he really had no idea how to answer half of them anyways. He had the impression 'Gee Ron, the dream girl with the scars just sliced open both my arms, and I enjoyed it. No problem,' wouldn't sound too good. It was odd, he remembered most of the dream perfectly, unlike normal ones, which faded to the back of your mind the moment you awoke.  
  
There was an extra strong twinge of pain in his arm as he accidentally knocked it against the porcelain, snapping him from his trance. Harry winced and rubbed his forearm gently. The cuts had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but they still ached. He had washed away most of the blood, and now his skin was tinged pink with the stained remnants. Harry narrowed his eyes and grabbed the wet paper towel, before determinedly scrubbing at his left, then right arm, ignoring the pain till it burned too much. He gave a moan of pain and hurled the paper in the trash can.  
  
The bathroom door banged open and Harry jumped visibly. He yanked on a sweater, breath hitching in his throat when the wool rubbed over his cuts, finally pulling the sleeves down to cover everything. A younger boy walked in, and Harry shoved past him roughly, mumbling some garbled excuse, and rushing as fast as he could out of the bathroom.  
  
*~*~*  
  
And there's chapter two! I'm extremely sorry, if I've offended someone with the cutting scene, or gotten it wrong in any sense. I honestly didn't mean to. The poem, Between Us Now and Here, is by Thomas Hardy. 


	3. In Death, His Soul Shall Be Saved

Author's Note: Hi, everyone, another chapter's here! And a note, if something has a [1] next to it, or a two or a three, then it's something I clear up at the bottom. And also, just trust me that everything in this story has rhyme and reason….well, at least in my head…..  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.  
  
~*~*~Eyes Wide Shut: Ch.3-In Death, His Soul Shall Be Saved ~*~*~  
  
So, Sunny, send at least one thoughtful letter   
  
My heart goes out to you   
  
Tell us all how things are so much better   
  
My heart, it left with you   
  
What else can I do?   
  
  
-Sunny, by Morrissey  
  
A zipping noise. A flash of something bright. A pair of blue eyes, illuminated by the light, watched with rapt attention.  
  
Evie reached out with her free hand, and picked up a piece of yellowed parchment from the desk, drawing it slowly towards her right hand and the flaming lighter. Blue flames danced over the sheet, before a small fizzling noise was heard and the paper was lit. She held it by a corner, face solemn, till the heat in her hand and fingers got too much and she was forced to drop it on the desk. She watched it burn, blinking only once when the sweat from her forehead got in her eyes.   
  
The paper crumpled into a small pile of black ashes, and once the last embers had died down, the mask cracked off, and Evie stood with a shaky smile, closing the lighter and slipping it into her pocket. It was still slightly warm, and the familiar weight was so comforting.  
  
She flopped back on the bed, smiling a bit but shivering slightly also. She hadn't meant to burn anything so soon after arriving, but she couldn't help it. She'd just been too angry. Dumbledore had sent a house-elf with a message saying that tonight she'd be Sorted with the rest of the first years. The rest of them. He was grouping her-her, a sixteen year old witch!-with a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears little first-years, half of whom had never even heard of magic before now! Evie had paced and fumed about that for about an hour, before her lighter fell to the ground with a clunk.  
  
And she'd just smiled in a vague, relieved sort of way.  
  
But now, in retrospect, it probably hadn't been the best idea. Evie felt so drained. It was an almost foreign feeling to her. She slid back onto the bed subconsciously, fingering the silky soft duvet color. The last thing she remembered thinking before falling asleep was about that fascinating, swirly tiled pattern on the ceiling, and then she was out like a light.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Rumble, rumble, rumble, thunk, thunk, clank. Rumble, rumble, rumble, thunk, thunk, clank! At the last jolt of the carriage, Ginny jumped and banged her chin on her arm, before scowling and leaning back from the window. She looked quickly to see if the second years occupying the carriage with her had noticed, but they were too caught up in some gossip about one Hufflepuff couple or another. She sighed quickly.  
  
They were in the carriages drawn by invisible horses (A/N: remember, I've disregarded OotP!), heading to Hogwarts castle. Night was falling quickly, turning the distant Forbidden Forest black against the pale twilight sky. She craned her neck slightly, to see the last golden rays of the sun. They were just as light and as brilliant as Malfoy's hair.  
  
Her hand clenched slightly, partly angry at herself for even thinking of that prat, and but mostly furious at the thought of him. Around everyone else, she was fine, perfectly guarded, hardly ever losing her temper, but all Malfoy ever had to do was smirk and Ginny would snap. And she hadn't even known he had that power until today.  
  
Sighing faintly, she turned her head to look anywhere but those golden rays of the dying sun. The second years had abandoned their conversation to stare at her.  
  
"Yes?" It came out slightly harsher than she had planned.  
  
They all quickly averted their eyes, but the bravest one, a tiny boy with a fair complexion, piped up. "Are you a Weasley?"  
  
Ginny gave a sort of sideways glance at the locks of bright red hair hanging in front of her face. "Yeah," she said grudgingly, knowing exactly what was coming next.  
  
She wasn't disappointed. All three gave short gasps, before looking at each other and then her. The boy who had spoken first, stammered out a quick apology, and Ginny stared, before inclining her head ever so slightly, and turning back to the window.  
  
Everyone was quiet for the rest of the ride.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Oh that's priceless! Ahahaheeeheee!!"  
  
Draco winced and gritted his teeth at the sound of Pansy's hyena laugh. Thankfully, she rarely ever used it, but when she did, it was enough to make you gag. Even Zabini, who'd been smirking ever since Pansy had thrown herself on his lap, was grimacing. But then she left her hand drift down out of sight, and Blaise immediately smirked wolfishly. Draco shut his eyes to block them out.  
  
The carriages only held four people, Draco, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle, but Pansy had whined so much that the boys had finally just thrown her onto Zabini. Come to think of it, Draco had no idea why she'd even want to sit with them, he scorned her openly, only Zabini ever even acknowledged her really.  
  
He was thinking hard over this and other random things when the carriage wheeled to a slow, lurching halt. Crabbe and Goyle scrambled out, probably already smelling the feast food, Draco reflected. He was the last one out, and still slightly spaced out as he walked up to the castle door, which is probably why he didn't see the hand until it had shot out and dragged him behind a statue.  
  
He choked for a second-whoever it was had gotten a good drip on his tie-before looking up and gaping. "Pansy?" Draco wheezed, before scowling. "What the hell are you doing?"  
  
She sighed impatiently before flipping her bright blonde hair out of her face and scowling right back. "Don't take that tone with me," she warned, then her expression changed abruptly. "I wanted to talk to you."  
  
Draco still wasn't happy. "About what, you can talk to me whenever!"  
  
"Malfoy…"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just shut up and listen for once."  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Hey Janis! I haven't seen you in ages!"  
  
"Hon, I know I didn't owl, but I was really busy…"  
  
"Oh my GOD, you broke up with him?!?"  
  
"It's good to be back!"  
  
Harry winced and rubbed his temples. He was walking towards the Great Hall, the main greeting place for the returning students. All the people talking and yelling and shrieking were starting to give him a headache, not to mention how annoying all the whispers were. He could hear snatches of conversations, and knew that a lot of students were talking about him.  
  
That thought made him suddenly feeling rather depressed.  
  
"Ginny!" He heard Hermione squeal, and he turned to see his best friend hug the younger girl tightly.  
  
Harry gulped slightly. His mind flashed back to the conversation he, Ron, and Hermione had had at the beginning of summer.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
Ron's voice was unusually gruff, Harry noticed. That was the first thing that came to his mind, sadly enough, as he started to speak.  
  
"Since-since everything that's happened," Ron said a little shakily. "My mom's not doing too good. She has to stay in bed a lot nowadays, so you guys can't come to the Burrow this year."  
  
Hermione touched his hand lightly. "It's ok," she whispered, eyes a little red, "we can all go to my house this year. It's the least I can do."  
  
Harry, who had been completely silent up to this point, finally spoke. "What about Ginny?"  
  
Ron blinked and ran his hands through his hair. "She has to stay with Mum, and help around the house. Don't worry, the twins will be there most of the time, she'll be fine."  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
Looking at her now, Harry thought she emphatically did not seem fine. Her face held a harassed, slightly morbid expression, and she wasn't laughing as she hugged her friend back, only smiling slightly. He narrowed his eyes as he walked closer with Ron. She just looked so much different than she had at the end of last year.  
  
Harry wasn't so sure if he liked the change.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ginny walked into the Great Hall slowly, feeling overwhelmed at the sudden rush of students all around her. Once again wishing for the peaceful quiet of summer, she started towards Gryffindor table, only to be stopped by someone shouting her name.  
  
It was Hermione, who caught her up in a fierce hug. She smiled. "Hey 'Mione," she said.  
  
The bushy haired girl started speaking quickly. "Oh Ginny it's so great to see you again! How was your summer? I hope you got a lot of work done, you know this year is very important. And speaking of important, I made Head Girl!"  
  
Ginny sighed. "Like there was ever any doubt."  
  
Hermione shrugged and started talking about her new duties, and other things like that, while Ron and Harry came over.  
  
She hugged both of them briefly. "Hi guys," said Ginny as she stepped back. Rather unsure of what to say next, she opted for silence and letting Ron and Hermione speak. Harry was oddly quiet.  
  
Hermione chatted to her a bit longer, and she smiled politely. They started towards their table, before being interrupted by a shout.  
  
"Harry, Hermione, Ron, I saved you guys some seats!" Called Neville from the middle of the long table. Looking ahead, Ginny saw three open seats by him. Hermione looked too, and her face fell slightly.  
  
"Oh, Gin," she murmured. "I uh, guess we'll see you later? We can sit together at breakfast! You can tell me all about your class schedule!"  
  
Her brother chimed in. "Yeah! We'll see you later."  
  
"Bye Ginny!" Said Harry as they walked away.  
  
Ginny smiled as she waved them off, but after a while the grin started to hurt her face and she turned away.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Evie groaned and rolled over, opening her eyes blearily. Her hip hit the lighter in her pocket and remembering her dream, she grabbed it and threw the damned thing across the room, oddly satisfied when she heard it hit the wall with a solid thud.   
  
Her dream. She barely remembered any of it, just fire. Fire, all around, the temperature up in extremes, getting hotter and hotter till finally she felt herself melting, before a burst of bright light. And then she woke up.  
  
Feeling more unsettled than ever, Evie sat up and checked her watch, then gasped. Crap. She had about, oh, five minutes to get dressed in her new uniform (house-elves were wondrous creatures, Evie decided, for all the work they did[1]) and run down to the Great Hall to be Sorted. And she didn't even know where the Great Hall was.  
  
Groaning, she threw the basic skirt, blouse, vest and robe on, before grabbing her wand (Ash, with a unicorn hair core) and rushing out of the portrait.  
  
"Slow down!" Called the man in the painting crabbily, shifting on his throne.  
  
Evie whirled around. "Where's the Great Hall?"  
  
The king just gave a fake sigh of sadness. "Always rushed, these young ones. Never a simple 'Hello,' or a 'Thank you,' at all!" He huffed, before noting Evie's scowl, and shrugging meekly. "Go down those stairs, take left, a right, the center fork in the hall, then two more rights and if you tap your wand against the statue of Merlin at the end of the hall, the Great Hall will be right through the door." Evie ran off, and the king sighed again. "Blasted modern kids."  
  
*~*~*  
  
"I want to warn you, Draco," Pansy started.  
  
He scowled. "About what? I'm fine."  
  
She sighed and took an awkward seat on the slight edge of stone behind the statue. Her gaze didn't even attempt to meet his as she rearranged her skirt and robe. "Everyone by now knows about your fa-uh, Lucius," she said hurriedly, noting his scowl. "And a lot of the Slytherins I've heard aren't too happy. When he was still alive, they obeyed your 'rule' out of fear. Now, they don't care what you think."  
  
Draco paced in front of her, wanting to yell but instead waiting till his temper had cooled a bit to finally speak. "What about Crabbe, and Goyle, and Zabini?"  
  
Pansy shrugged, now examining her nails. "They must actually like you." Both snorted at that, and she smirked. "But seriously, they've been closest to you here, and they should know better than anyone what your really capable of."  
  
"And the rest? They all just believe that I hid behind my father for years?"  
  
"I suppose so," the blonde girl hesitated for a moment. "And they're all rather doubting of your devotion to the Dark Lord."  
  
Here he finally lost his temper. Draco whirled on the flinching girl. "What?! What Dark Lord?? He's dead, the cause died with him!! The Death Eaters are either in Azkaban, or dead! Hell, half the graduated Slytherins were among them!" He rubbed his face with his hand, causing the next words to be muffled horribly. "There's no one left."  
  
"I know that, just as well as you do. But some people…I don't know. It's like they've forgotten the losses, everything. Some believe he isn't dead. Others think they can start over, a new Lord, a new reign of terror." Pansy shook her head, before seemingly remembering Draco's presence and smiling weakly. "Makes you think, doesn't it?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
She smiled bitterly. "You know what I mean. We're both older than most in our year, and if we had been born only months later, we'd have been in that class last year. We'd have the Mark and be dead, or in jail right now."  
  
Draco stared off into the setting sun as she spoke. The sun was huge and orange, and he felt inferior in comparison. The golden rays illuminated the back of the mountains, and for a moment, it looked like the hills were on fire. He blinked, and it disappeared. Draco sighed in slight disappointment. Finally, he realized the girl had stopped talking and turned back to face her once more. They looked at each other, and simultaneously started towards the Hall.  
  
Right outside the doors, Draco stopped. "What happened to you, Pansy? I always thought you were just some ditzy girl, you still act that way around Blaise and others," he accused.  
  
Her eyes narrowed in thought, and when she finally spoke, Draco could tell she had chosen her words carefully. "I grew up, Draco. No matter how much people may forget, others have suffered just as much as you." And with that, she slipped into the hall. Draco followed slowly, brow furrowed in thought.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Stupid castle, I hate this place, I hate it, I hate it," Evie muttered to no one, aiming a vicious kick at the wall. She winced as a jarring pain shot up her leg, and made a face at the wall. It stared back innocently, and she gave a growl before spinning around and placing aforementioned wall at her back.  
  
She was in some random hall, completely lost. That portrait's directions were absolute crap. There was no center fork, no two consecutive right turns, no statue of Merlin at all. 'Stupid picture,' she thought to herself with disgust.  
  
Evie started to lean against the wall, but suddenly, it moved and slid away behind her. She fell backwards-hard, judging by the pain in her butt-and felt the breath knocked out of her. Looking up, she saw the granite arms of a statue, and standing up, she saw it to be Merlin.  
  
Evie wasted no time in tapping his robe with her wand, and walking through. Luckily enough, Professor McGonagall and the first years were just walking by. They all stopped at the front doors, and looked at her curiously as Evie walked up to the older woman.  
  
She eyed the purple hair and piercings with distaste. "Evelyn Ashton? Yes, yes, the Headmaster has informed us all of your unique position. You'll be Sorted with the other first-years in a few moments." Then the Professor smiled slightly and leaned forward. "I look forward to seeing you in my Advanced Transfiguration class," she said, eyes sparkling. Evie was about to respond, but the older woman disappeared behind the huge double doors, and the words on her tongue just turned into a sigh.  
  
The wide-eyed eleven year olds turned their attention on her. One especially annoying one stepped forward. "Hey, what are you doing with the first years? Were you just too stupid to come here before?" All the other kids snickered, and Evie could feel her face heating up slightly. She reached into her pocket to caress her lighter as a sort of worry stone, before remembering how she had thrown it at the door after her nightmare. The remembrance of the nightmare and the absence of her lighter combined to fuel the rage sitting in her heart. In two quick steps, she was right next to the little boy. He was rather tall for his age, so he was the perfect height for her to grab his robe at the throat.  
  
"Listen to me you little snot-nosed piece of wizarding trash," she ground out, fisting her hands in his clothes and pinning him against the wall. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not in the best mood for teasing right now. So if you and your little friends don't leave me alone right this instant, I'm going to hex you into the next century. And I'm a sixth year, so I can sure as hell do it, too." Her voice had dropped to a threatening whisper, though it was perfectly audible amidst the hushed silence. The boy was trembling, but he managed to nod, and Evie dropped him with disgust on her features.  
  
The double doors opened, the boy scrambled to his feet, and the whole group walked through. Evie followed silently.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ginny watched as the Transfiguration professor walked up to the small stool, her footsteps loud in the silence, and placed the tattered hat upon it. The redhead leaned forward in her seat just a little bit. Every year, she waited for this one moment, it had always given her a kick to see that wide seem split open into a mouth and adjust itself, like one awakening from a long slumber. The song was always exciting too, of course, but she had always loved that first moment best.  
  
She wasn't disappointed. There was a slight ripping sound, and Ginny could hear a yawn escape it amidst the loud gasps of the first-years. The Sorting Hat then started to sing.  
  
"Though time and change may fray my edge  
  
I haven't lost my mind  
  
I still know what House is best  
  
And for you just that I'll find  
  
From brave lion to sly snake  
  
Four houses stand side by side  
  
Each with their own strengths and weaknesses  
  
Together they are impossible to divide.  
  
The lion roars for each new student  
  
To enter in Gryffindor's den  
  
The brave and courageous there must go  
  
To find people like them as friends.  
  
The badger is the gentle one,  
  
Of all the Founding four.  
  
It stands to reason new students  
  
Must be loyal to enter Hufflepuff's door.  
  
The raven of Ravenclaw house  
  
Has wit enough to spare  
  
Ravenclaws have knowledge enough  
  
With new ones they will share!  
  
And last, but in no way least,  
  
We come to the Slytherin snake  
  
Cunning, sly, and ambitious too  
  
I'll put you here if that's your make.  
  
Step right up, and cram me on!  
  
I'll fit right snug around your head  
  
I'll look inside, and then decide  
  
Just where you'll find your bed!"  
  
Everyone in the hall broke out into tumultuous applause, and Ginny could swear she saw the animals on the House banners move slightly, in their own silent approval. She allowed a slight smile, before passing her eyes over the first years.  
  
They all looked scared, and she felt a fleeting moment of pity for the younger kids. Her brown eyes alighted on a particularly tall girl. She didn't look much like a first-year, with dark purple hair and eyebrow piercings, though she did look just as scared. Their eyes met, and Ginny could see blue eyes harden into a scowl, and the redhead quickly looked away. However, she could hear snatches of whispers around her as the first student was called.  
  
"-Who's that girl?"  
  
"-She looks way too old-"  
  
"Check out that hair!"  
  
"-What a weirdo-"  
  
"-I hope she isn't in Ravenclaw with us-"  
  
Ginny switched her attention back to the Sorting and away from all the cruel whispers around her. By now, quite a few of the first-years had been Sorted. Ginny heard the hat call out "GRYFFINDOR!" and she clapped a bit along with the rest of her house. They had gotten into the M's, and still the girl hadn't been called, though from the look on her face, it looked like something was wrong. She had retreated to the back of the quickly diminishing group, and was gnawing on a fingernail anxiously.  
  
Finally, there were only two people left.  
  
"Zechner, Alex!"  
  
The boy walked to the stool and jammed the hat over his head, fidgeting as he waited. Finally, it called out Ravenclaw, and the table to Ginny's far right exploded in cheers. The whispers about the girl grew louder now, and some of the Slytherins burst into mocking laughter at something Malfoy had said. Ginny watched her eyes flick over to that table and the blonde, and she paled noticeably. The redhead was stopped from contemplating this by Dumbledore, who stood again.  
  
"First, I'd like to welcome all new students. May you all find your new houses as enjoyable as countless students have before you," he took this opportunity to beam at all those in the Great Hall, before starting to speak again. "And we have one more student to join us this year. She's just transferred here from the Salem Witches Institute in America, and will be in sixth year. Evelyn Ashton, can you come up here to be Sorted, please?"  
  
The girl walked between the tables, her footsteps a hesitant shuffling sound. She finally reached the stool, and sat down, placing the hat on and shutting her eyes.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Hermione had stopped talking as Dumbledore introduced the new girl, but now she wrinkled her nose. "That's not possible, it says specifically in 'Hogwarts: A History' that no transfer students are allowed!" She sounded scandalized at the very thought that someone could go against something written in a book.  
  
Harry shrugged, watching the girl fidget as she waited for the hat to make its decision. Her skin was pale, though he couldn't tell if that was just nerves, and her purple hair gleamed in the light. He smiled a tiny bit. She was exactly the kind of girl Aunt Petunia meant when she said anything about, "ruffians."  
  
Ron's stomach growled next to him. Hermione made an impatient tutting sound. Harry could hear a clock ticking loudly. Merlin, this girl was taking a long time to Sort.  
  
Harry felt like he was about to nod off; afternoon naps always ended up leaving him more tired than before. And speaking of nap…he looked down and discreetly uncovered his arms, looking down at the fresh looking gashes. He gulped. They still hurt a bit, but it was considerably less than when the girl had first cut him.  
  
As much as Harry would have liked to write this off as some stupid dream that was a result of too many Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron Cakes, by now he knew more than anyone that there really was no such thing as a coincidence.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Evie tried to draw in a calming breath, but it was interrupted by a voice in her mind, causing her to jump in the stool.  
  
'Why hello Evely-oops, I mean Evie.'  
  
She gaped. 'How'd you know?' She thought with amazement.  
  
'I'm inside your mind. I'm here to Sort you into the right House-you were paying attention to the song?'  
  
'Yes, yes of course. So, umm, where do I belong?'  
  
She winced at the odd sensation of something digging around in her mind and memories. Evie waited for the hat to continue talking. It took quite a while, before, finally she heard it again.  
  
'Hmm, quite a difficult decision…I can see almost all of the trademark House characteristics in you, well, except for Hufflepuff. You aren't that loyal, are you?'  
  
Evie rolled her eyes mentally. 'No, I suppose not. So, where do I go?'  
  
'Not really Slytherin, not quite your style I don't think. But Ravenclaw seems just right so…' Suddenly she felt the arrival of another presence in her mind. She figured it was some kind of helper, but another thought changed that. The Sorting Hat felt sort of like a comforting presence in her mind, like some big bright beacon. This other thing…felt dark, somehow. It brought to mind forests and such, but it was still dark.  
  
The Sorting Hat stiffened in her head. She knew it was about to say Ravenclaw, but then she heard it roar, "GRYFFINDOR!" to the hall. Both presences were suddenly gone from her mind, and Evie stood shakily. The Gryffindor table was clapping for her, and she attempted a smile as she walked over. On the way  
  
*~*~*  
  
Draco's head snapped up at the name Dumbledore mentioned. He never usually paid attention to the Sorting, but now, he had to. 'Oh Merlin,' he thought hurriedly, 'it can't be her. Not here!'  
  
Pansy saw his eyes widen and his hand clench. She followed his gaze to the girl now sitting with the Sorting Hat on her head and raised an eyebrow. She leaned over and whispered, "Draco, what's wrong? Who's that girl?"  
  
Still wearing the face of someone who'd smelled bad fish, he paused before answering. "Evelyn Ashton. My least-favorite cousin."  
  
Pansy's eyebrow rose higher. "Oh I remember, you always talked about how annoying she was when we were younger," she mused. "Isn't she from the States? What's she doing here?"  
  
Draco's hand clenched a bit under the table. "No idea," Draco murmured. Then he scowled. "Well, I'll ask her tonight. She'll be in Slytherin."  
  
"Are you sure about that? She may not be like you and the rest of the family. You know how Americans are-Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, all of them," Pansy said with a smirk.  
  
He just turned his glare on her. "She'd better not be. At least not if she wants to stay in this family."  
  
The blonde girl stayed silent, inwardly thinking Draco was stupid to be so presumptuous. As it turned out, a second later, she was proven right as the hat called out, "Gryffindor!" and the boy next to her started to curse.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Alright, girl's dormitory is on that side, boy's on that one. Try and get a good night's sleep, tomorrow's your first day of classes!" Harry called after the first years now obediently trooping up the stairs, most too tired to talk at all. A few cast looks back at him, in awe or shyness, before scampering up and out of view. Harry grinned and collapsed on the couch, next to Ron, who looked half asleep.  
  
When his best friend sat down, however, Ron instantly sat up, and checked the common room. It was empty, so he leaned forward.  
  
"We need to talk," he said gravely.  
  
Harry knew what was coming; Ron wanted to talk about his arms and the cuts. He sighed inwardly. Just when he had forgotten about that, Ron had to bring it up again. Hoping to stall, Harry gave a mock gasp. "Wait-does this mean you're breaking up with me?" He joked in a high falsetto.  
  
The redhead didn't laugh. "I'm serious Harry," said Ron as he ran a hand through his shaggy red hair. "You need to tell me what happened to your arms. You never explained on the train."  
  
A million excuses chased each other through Harry's head. Accident, hex, fight, masochism, or-God forbid-the truth. "No idea," Harry lied. "I guess I scratched my arms on the windowsill or something while I slept." He yawned widely. "Now if you don't mind, I'm tuckered out, I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
He got up, and upon seeing Ron still frowning, smiled softly. "Hey," he said, "don't worry about it. We've both gotten much worse in Quidditch and the like. I'm fine."  
  
Later, as Harry reflected in his bed that night, it wasn't the lying that had disturbed him. It was how easy lying had been.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Evie ran a hand through her hair absentmindedly, grimacing at the feel of dry strands. Her hair was completely dead. Magical dye always left it that way. She picked up her wand and thought of changing it back to her normal dark brown. She'd only really dyed it to annoy Aunt Esther. But now, she was free from her forever. Evie raised the wand, determined to get rid of the color, before remembering Draco. She knew he hated it. And that settled the decision to leave the color in.  
  
Evie turned away from the mirror and dropped her bathrobe before sinking into the big tub, allowing herself a small smile. At least she had her own bathroom. The smile faded. Of course, that just meant that she was completely alone in her room. It was now her permanent room, Gryffindor's Head of House McGonagall had informed her that after the feast. Even now, almost an hour later, Evie could still remember the feeling of blood rushing to her cheeks as the older woman informed her that the dormitory was too full to accommodate her at such short notice. There had been the abstract sound of laughter around her, and Evie's mind had immediately seized it, changing it so in her ears, it had felt like they were all laughing at her. She felt awful, like she was drowning in the awful sound.  
  
On the outside, she calmly nodded to the Professor and said she understood, before walking back to her room quickly. When she got there, the sheets had already been changed to scarlet and gold, Gryffindor colors. Evie had sat on the bed gingerly, smoothing out the red coverlet with apprehension and distaste. She'd much preferred her nice, calming blue.  
  
Evie blew a strand of hair out of her face in the tub. She sunk down deeper, till the water was covering her shoulders, and thought back to the Sorting. She was sure the hat had been about to say Ravenclaw as her house. But then that other thing came and changed its mind. And so into Gryffindor House she went.  
  
She lowered herself more. The water was now up to her chin. That was another thing that bothered her. The whole House system. Was she allowed to talk to other people in different houses? What about classes and points and a million other things she didn't understand? Evie had no idea who to ask about anything.  
  
With a frustrated groan, Evie dunked her entire head underneath the water. She smiled and opened her eyes to tranquil blue. At least everything made sense here.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ginny sat and looked at herself in the mirror. Longish red hair, brown eyes, pale skin, freckles. Somehow, it all looked the same as last year. She sighed slightly, before grabbing the hairbrush and beginning to drag it through her hair.  
  
She was in the girl's bathroom. Well, she was actually more in the 'lounge' as everyone called it. There were many mirrors and chairs, even a sofa. Ginny usually went there to do her make up and hair, as it was much more quiet than her room and the bathroom.  
  
She kept up with her brushing, completely absorbed in the mundane task. Like it always was…  
  
::Flashback::  
  
Ginny was brushing her mother's hair again. She did it everyday in the afternoon, right after Molly Weasley's nap, and before Ginny cooked dinner.  
  
The girl both loved and hated this time. It was easy to get lost in the steady rhythm, not having to pay attention to anything. But she hated it whenever her mother tried to speak. Like she did now.  
  
"G-Gin…Ginny," came the familiar wheezing voice.  
  
She bit her lip. "Yes Mum?" Her hands kept up with their steady stroking, of the dull red hair that was once so fine and luxurious. Ginny remembered playing with it as a child, tugging on the silken strands and giggling. Her mother would laugh right back. She half closed her eyes, in memory, but a cold frail hand on her arm stopped that.  
  
"Where…Arthur…?"  
  
Ginny swallowed, but managed to keep both her voice and her hand from shaking. "I've told you, Mum, he's gone," she said calmly.  
  
The hand remained on her wrist, though she tried to discreetly shake it off. "Ginny…my beautiful little baby," Molly murmured again. Her head started to drop onto her chest, but Ginny pulled her back upright. "You'll always be here for me, won't you?"  
  
The hand maneuvering the hairbrush pushed on the worn handle just a bit harder. "Always," Ginny vowed quietly.  
  
::End Flashback::  
  
Ginny threw the brush down. She smoothed out her plain white nightgown, fingers trembling a bit. Looking up, she saw that her eyes were wide and blank looking.  
  
'Like that new girl,' Ginny thought. Her mind floated back to her memory. Evelyn or whatever her name was had looked so sad and bewildered when she stumbled in, and that look had only intensified when she'd sat at Gryffindor table.  
  
"Where's she's sleeping?" She wondered aloud. Evelyn was in her year, but she knew for a fact that her own dorm was full. The other girls had even been petitioning for more space last year.  
  
Ginny sighed, before casting one last apprehensive glance at her reflection and heading towards her dorm.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Draco shifted in his sleep, flipping over onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillow, shifting smoothly from his dreams of beating up Potter to something very, very different.  
  
He was at Hogwarts. There was some sort of huge crowd in front of him, a thick line shuffling slowly to the front. Draco felt his stomach twinge. Something felt wrong. The sky portrayed by the ceiling was sunny and clear, but inside the hall he could hear some sad muttering.  
  
Frowning, he pushed his way through the line. Along the way, he started hearing snatches of conversation.  
  
"-He's finally gone, thank Merlin-"  
  
"I don't see why we should have to pay respects!"  
  
"Fucking Death Eater…"  
  
Draco felt that same ugly twinge. No one seemed to notice his presence there, which only made him growl slightly and push harder. Finally he got through to the front, and felt his heart stop dead.  
  
Everything faded around him, all the noise and footsteps, till all he could hear was his own shallow breathing. Finally, that too died away, and it was like he was stuck in a soundproof box, with only a window to watch the outside world.  
  
But Draco fervently wished that the window would fade away too, taking with it the event he now realized was a funeral procession.  
  
For his own death.  
  
Yes, it was him. He peered closer at the black lacquered coffin with the lid open. The same aristocratic features, frozen in a blank stare, the same pale hair slicked back like he had worn it years ago. He leaned even closer to the glass covering. His eyes were open, a little wide, but there was nothing behind the gray iris. He was dead. But that wasn't the worst part. His arms were at his side, but Draco could still see a slight black mark. He was a Death Eater.  
  
Draco gulped and backed up quickly. He stumbled and fell into someone behind him, but that person just shook him off and continued towards the front. From his place on the floor, Draco could see that the person he had bumped into was Potter.   
  
The raven-haired boy stopped by the coffin, a grimace of distaste on his face. The rest of the students hushed, knowing of the legendary feud between the two boys. Finally, Potter just shook his head and walked off, still looking disgusted. As his two friends followed like bodyguards, Weasley spat on the marker near the coffin, before all three swept out of sight.  
  
Draco stood and walked to the marker, but dropped to his knees again as soon as he had read it.  
  
'DRACO MALFOY. December 4, 1980-October 12, 1997. IN DEATH, HIS SOUL SHALL BE SAVED.'  
  
Those words swam inside his head, chasing each other and rearranging themselves, till finally, he broke down in sobs, and buried his face in his hands. All around him, the students in line kept moving to see the coffin, to look at his body and pass judgment on his life.  
  
*~*~*  
  
This is all in my HP world, mind you:  
  
[1]: House elves were first created/bred in Europe. By the time America existed and they could have been imported there, America had so many anti-slavery laws that they were illegal. Thus, Evie's only seen like two house elves in her lifetime.  
  
AND BY THE WAY, I think in Chapter 1, Evie calls Draco 'Draconius.' That was a mistake. I sorta typed it as a joke, and thought I fixed it, but I guess not. So sorry, she really calls him Draco! 


	4. Cocoon

Author's Note: Hmm, I've been pretty bad about updating for a while huh? *hits self* Bad Elena! Haha, anyways, hope you like this, believe me, it's just a filler chap. Hopefully something will actually happen in the next chapter…

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

~*~*~Eyes Wide Shut: Ch.4-Cocoon~*~*~

__

They will see us waving from such great heights

"Come down now," they'll say,  
But everything looks perfect from far away,  
"Come down now," but we'll stay...

-Such Great Heights, by Postal Service

Somewhere far away, yet infinitely close, past time and space and any other dimension you can think of, a small light shone from a secluded cave. Inside, gathered tightly around a glowing orb, four tinted black shadows flickered in and out of the cave.

The dark green shadow was completely silent, and the most still of the four, though every once in a while it would whip to the side like a branch of fire. Next to it, a reddish black shadow was humming softly as it moved in a complex, unchoreographed dance. The darkest shadow, a deep black one, was also the smallest, and it seemed to shrink even more as time went on. Seemingly staring intently into the orb, a bluish violet shadow was moving in place, shaking its head from side to side sadly.

Finally, the orb between them all faded to black, and a spasm shuddered through all four. The shadows stopped their individual movements and sank back. 

"It's done," announced the blue violet shadow. The other three stayed silent.

*~*~*

A little past one in the morning, four students woke up simultaneously, gasping for breath and shaking from fear.

*~*~* 

Harry groped at his bedside table for his glasses, and jammed them on before laying back against the pillows, hands clutching the sheets right above his heart. It was beating quickly, and Harry finally realized what people meant by the saying, "my heart hammering in my chest." That was exactly what it felt like to him, as if his heart might actually break through his ribcage.

He'd had the same dream again.

It was almost exactly the same as before. The main difference was in what had occurred once he found the clearing again.

__

"You're back!" The girl had cried, eyes shining happily.

Harry's face had hardened as his eyes flicked over her and the knife lying on the ground. In a few strides, he was standing next to her, and he roughly hauled the girl to her feet.

"I want an explanation," Harry ground out through his teeth.

Her blue eyes flashed with worry. "What?"

"You heard me!" He barked, shaking her slightly.

She hissed in pain, and Harry realized he had been grabbing one of her cuts. Shocked at his own actions, he dropped her, and stared at the blood on his hands in horror. Harry looked down at her.

He'd barely even looked at her before he'd grabbed her, but now he had the time to sweep his eyes over her body. She looked the same as before, except that her cuts were somehow different. Like they'd shifted. 'Well, it is a dream,' Harry thought while shuddering. Her body was horrifying, with the blood-stained skin and shiny scars. His eyes focused in on a few old looking scar down her arm; they spelled the word LOVE in big block letters.

Not knowing what else to do, he dropped to his knees next to her. She had abandoned rubbing her arm and was now playing with the dirt, tracing patterns into it. Harry was again struck by the childlike quality her actions possessed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

She barely acknowledged him, just shrugging her bare shoulders slightly.

"I am," he persisted desperately. "I'm just scared and confused I guess."

She laughed bitterly. "We all are."

There was silence for a moment longer. It weighed down heavily upon Harry's tongue, making it hard for him to even speak at all. Finally he stammered out another question.

"So what is your name?"

The girl ignored him. She stood up, and he noticed that the most recent cut was still bleeding, though she made no move to staunch the crimson flow.

"Please." Harry barely even recognized his voice with such a piteous tone. "Please, please tell me. I have to know."

There was a sigh. "You'll never know until you trust me, and you'll never trust me until you know that I'm real." She sighed again, hopelessly, and waved her hand vaguely at him. He found his body shooting back through some mist, and soon she was lost from view.

Harry suddenly felt stifled under the thick covers as he remembered her words. Casting them off, he saw his cuts from the first dream. They were surprisingly small, just thin little lines of faded red along his forearm. Her last words. "Until you know that I'm real," she'd said.

_Maybe_, he thought. _Just maybe._

*~*~*

Evie braced herself against the sink with shaking arms. That same stupid dream, filled with the same unbearable fire.

But this time, it was a bit different. At the very end, she'd heard a small voice. It was too hard to understand, though Evie strained to try and remember. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't even sure it had been English.

"I'm going insane," she muttered to herself, lifting her head up to gaze at her own face in the mirror. It was drawn and pale, and in the harsh light her hair was blindingly garish. She felt disgust pool in the bottom of her stomach. Evie suddenly felt the urge to punch the mirror, and shatter that hideous thing that was her own face.

_Maybe not a good idea, _she reflected sullenly, before exiting the bathroom and heading towards the window. She opened it as far as it would go, and shivered at the sudden change from too warm to too cold. But this at least was comforting, as the heat had not been.

The night was dark, a blue so dark it looked like a black pillow strewn with diamond stars. Absentmindedly, she thought of a portrait she'd seen in a book of Harry Potter. His hair, on the contrast, was so black it looked blue. She smiled slightly, feeling her heart speed up. And now she was in the very same school as him, even the same House. Though, as Evie reflected, he really hadn't struck her as so amazing. His hair was unkempt, his glasses huge on the small face, and only his eyes were really that remarkable, a brilliant green that shone more through the lenses.

Evie leaned heavily on her elbows and cradled her face in her hands, still deep in thought. This was all so weird and new. She could barely even believe it was real. She moved back to England after almost ten years in America, to the famous Hogwarts, complete with Harry Potter. If it hadn't been for him, she'd probably be training to be one of them right now.

Evie shook her head. She was just being idiotic now. Sighing, she crept back into bed, leaving the window open for her to stare out of as she tried in vain to get back to sleep.

*~*~*

Ginny buried her face in her hands. She'd had the exact same dream as the one on the train. The same weird house, the same blind boy. The only difference was what had happened once she'd come into the room.

_The boy had apparently heard her. He'd turned and given a shy half smile._

"Hello," he'd said, before frowning. "Why are you here?"

Ginny had sat on the bed gingerly, next to him. "I don't know," she'd said. "What's your name? I saw you before, but I didn't get a chance to ask."

The boy had turned to her. She'd shivered at the feeling of those sightless eyes sliding over her. "Do you trust me?" He'd asked, his voice suddenly more anxious.

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" He was almost frantic now, leaning towards her.

"I-I," Ginny's voice had faltered. "I can't. I don't know you at all."

He'd smiled sadly. "But you have to. You have to learn. Good-bye, Ginny."

The room had started to fade from her sight, as she began to wake up, pouring sweat.

Ginny just now realized how dark it was inside the closed curtains of her canopy bed. The sweat increased, making her nightgown stick to her back and chest as she groped around for her magic light. Feeling her fingers close around the cold crystal, she sighed in relief. It took mere moments for the light to flare up again, casting a subtle glow around her and calming her nerves instantly.

She'd been sleeping with the night light ever since her second year at Hogwarts. At first her mother had fussed about letting her have the sleeping aid of toddlers, but countless nights of waking up to Ginny's tears had changed her mind. Ginny hadn't slept without it ever since.

Of course, this presented some problems. Ginny had to stop going on sleepovers, and while at Hogwarts, she had to hide the magic light from her dorm mates by closing the curtains around her bed every night. And sometimes, if it dimmed or was misplaced, she spent the night wide awake, fighting off sleep for fear of the nightmares sure to haunt it.

She knew that even with her light, she wouldn't be able to sleep again tonight. That summer, her body had become trained to sleeping with her mother's schedule. Ginny checked her alarm clock. Right now she'd be getting her mother a glass of water, then telling her a story to lure her to sleep. Automatically, she began thinking of which story to tell. Maybe it would be the fairy tale 'East of the Sun and West of the Moon.' Yes, it was her favorite story.

In her head, she started telling it from memory. _Once upon a time there was a poor husbandman who had many children and little to give them in the way of either food or clothing. They were all pretty, but the prettiest of all was the youngest daughter, who was so beautiful that there were no bounds to her beauty…_

*~*~*

Draco shot up in bed, tangled sheets falling to his waist. His breathing was labored as he tried to clear his head of the muddled thoughts.

He'd been dead. And a Death Eater. All the Hogwarts students had been visiting, though none looked happy about it. Draco felt a shiver run through him, and he automatically wrapped the bed sheet tight around his shoulders, though it did little to help.

Draco leaned against the headboard, feeling the engravings dig into his back. And then Potter and the trio had walked by. He remembered the look of utter disgust on his rival's face, as if Draco had been barely more than something to wipe his nose with. "And Weasley," he murmured. Walking by, the redhead had just spit on his tombstone. Right near the engraving stating, "In death, his soul shall be saved."

Draco swallowed and sat up quietly, planning on heading towards the Hospital Wing for some Dreamless Sleep potion. His bare feet shuffled silently over the cold stone floor, and Draco shivered before wrapping himself in his robe he'd draped carelessly over the back of his chair.

One perk of being Head Boy, Draco had to admit, was the room. It was beautiful, with a huge four-poster bed, spacious desk, and just general extra space. Sure, it was nearer to the staff room than he'd like, and Granger's Head Girl room was just down the hall, but he still wouldn't give it up for anything.

Draco shoved these thoughts out of his head and walked quicker in the direction of the Infirmary. Not that he'd admit it to anyone, but Hogwarts was eerie at night. The flickering torches cast gloomy shadows against the wall, and the suits of armor lining the corridor stood in silent judgment. He wrapped the robes tighter around his slim waist.

Within minutes he arrived at the Hospital Wing, and he pushed through impatiently. Madam Pomfrey was dozing in the chair in her open office, but at his entrance she awoke with a start. She was infamous in Hogwarts for being a very light sleeper.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy?" She asked him, her voice hardly betraying the fact that she had been asleep a few moments ago.

"I need a Dreamless Sleep Potion," said Draco.

Her face became slightly graver, and the nurse nodded quietly. While rummaging through a cabinet for his potion, she began to speak again.

"It's sad. So many students had been in here asking for that same Potion last year, I went ahead and made double our quota for this year!" Her voice was becoming annoying and Draco began to filter it out, till finally he heard her bustle back over. "Here you are. This should be enough for tonight, come back if you need anymore tomorrow."

Draco took it wordlessly and started to leave. Her cheerful manner was getting on his nerves. How dare she be so carefree and happy, when he was here suffering from this horrible nightmare? Even as he thought it, he knew it was irrational, but at that point, it didn't much matter anymore.

Once he was back in bed, he drained the vial in one gulp and almost instantly dropped back against the pillows, feeling the soft waves of sleep billow around and finally overcome him.

*~*~* 

Harry and Ron were standing by the foot of the stairs leading to the girl's dorm. Harry had his head leaning against the wall, half dozing as he waited for Hermione. It was annoying that she took so long. He racked his brain, but couldn't remember if she'd taken so long to get ready last year.

He felt Ron's eyes on him, and he grudgingly turned to look at his friend. "What?" He snapped irritably.

Ron hastily looked away. "Nothing," he said. Then, a little bit later, "You sleep okay?"

"I slept okay," Harry said uneasily as he remembered his dream. It had faded a bit, so now it just nagged at the back of his mind, random meaningless memories and words. "Why?"

Ron shrugged. "I just woke up briefly last night, and saw you were up." His cool façade cracked a little. "You haven't been having any-you know-weird dreams lately, have you?"

Harry bit his lip slightly. He knew exactly what Ron meant, and his dreams didn't have anything to do with Voldemort, but still, he wondered if he should just break down and confess it all. He was on the verge of pushing up his sleeves and telling Ron everything, but Hermione chose that exact moment to rush down the stairs.

And as simply as that, Ron's attention was caught and the moment was gone.

*~*~*

Ginny walked slowly down to breakfast. She was a bit earlier than usual, but it didn't matter much as most students didn't even go to breakfast, preferring to sleep in instead.

She took her usual seat. It felt nice having her own place at the table. Even if she was alone, at least she had that. Food was already on the golden plates, and Ginny began eating her eggs slowly.

'_Do you trust me?' The blind boy's words echoed in her mind. He'd sounded so desperate for an answer…just like Tom had._

She sat up in bed, adjusting the magic light so its glow fell over the pages. Ginny dipped her quill in the inkpot and pressed it to the paper, feeling her fear and anxiety pour out onto the page in the form of a crisp black line.

'Are you there Tom?' She wrote.

The words spread outward on the page slowly. As always, the process was fascinating, and Ginny was too busy watching the words form to actually read them for a bit.

'Of course Ginny,' the words read. 'Where else would I be?'

Ginny didn't even smile at his joke. 'What's happening to me? I keep waking up and not knowing where I am.'

The words flashed quicker this time. 'Don't worry about it. Just trust me, Ginny.'

Her hand trembled. 'I'm scared,' she wrote in small letters.

'Don't be. Now, do you trust me?'

'Of course I do, Tom. Of course I do.'

Ginny just picked at her eggs more, trying to remember what her mother had said to think of whenever her thoughts drifted back to Tom.

_Remember Ginny_, she urged herself. _He was never really there. He isn't real, and he isn't even here anymore. He and his older self are gone for good._

But still, it was hard for her to believe. Ginny started on her toast as she looked around for Ron, but he wasn't down yet. Maybe she could tell him about the dreams. Instantly, a scenario flashed into her mind. Harry would frown, while Hermione would begin suggesting books, probably some self help crap. Ron would go pale and start overreacting. And then Hermione would start worrying about him, and looking at Harry nervously to see if he was getting upset about hearing all this.

Ginny sighed and started to get up. Maybe she wouldn't tell them anything, after all.

*~*~*

Harry was quiet at breakfast that morning. Granted, it wasn't noticed, as Hermione and Ron were chatting animatedly about classes and other things. He just kept looking down, chewing his toast mechanically and not even noticing anything else.

Finally, he felt a poke on his shoulder, and looked up to see Hedwig with a letter clutched in her talons as she took sips of his pumpkin juice. That was odd; he hadn't even heard the owls come in.He frowned while taking the letter and patting her goodbye. 

Harry scanned the letter quickly. "Hey Ron, Hermione," he said. "Hagrid wants us to go down to his cabin this weekend. Sound good?"

"Sure!" Ron and Hermione said at the same time. They laughed at that, before Harry caught sight of his watch.

"Oh, we'd better get going. Class starts in a few minutes. What do we have first again?"

His best friends gave him strange looks, then gave each other the same ones. "Harry," Hermione started gently. "We just read out the timetable a few minutes ago. Weren't you listening?"

Harry felt a blush rise in his cheeks, and forced himself to stammer a response. "Uhh, I guess I must've been spacing out for a bit there. What's first?"

"Herbology, with the Ravenclaws."

Harry nodded, and checked his bag, before sighing. He didn't have his dragon hide gloves or his textbook. "Hold on, I gotta get my stuff. I'll meet you there." They nodded and started to get up, while he sprinted towards the dorm.

*~*~*

Evie sat up groggily. After her dream-could it be considered a nightmare?-she hadn't been able to get back to a real sleep. She forgot how many times she'd gotten up that night for a glass of water, or tried to read to pass the time.

Her stomach grumbled painfully, but after a glance at the clock she realized that breakfast was just ending. And that meant classes were soon too. She cursed under her breath, and scrambled to get out of bed, grabbing her clothes and stumbling into the bathroom.

When she emerged, an owl was just swooping out of the open window. She saw a letter lying on her desk and, slightly confused, headed for it quickly.

"What the-" Evie said as she opened it. She frowned in annoyance. It was from Professor McGonagall-her new Head of House. It was her specialized schedule.

She sighed in disappointment. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd hoped that this whole thing about her taking first year classes was a joke, but alas, here was proof. Her first Potions class was on Friday, and her first Herbology lesson tomorrow. Today was Advanced Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall and during lunch, she'd be talking with her Head about which extra class to take, which would be after lunch.

Evie grabbed the new textbooks her aunt had given her and started to leave her room, adjusting her uniform with distaste. It was annoying to have to wear these huge robes, and the garish Gryffindor patch was irritating her also. She sighed again, for the second time in almost as many minutes, and tried to remember where the Transfiguration classroom was.

While she was busy puzzling over that, she passed by the Gryffindor common room. "Now," she started to say. "I should know where it is from here. The next corridor on the left? Or is it the right? Ooh, and I only have fifteen minutes left, I'm going to be late for su-Oof!" Evie cried as she felt something collide into her side. Miraculously, she didn't fall down, but her books weren't as lucky. They tumbled to the floor in a messy heap and she gave a disbelieving noise before bending to gather them up again.

"You know, you could damn well apologize," Evie snapped irritably, before faltering as she dragged her eyes upward and met a startling green gaze, framed by thick glasses just underneath a pale lightning-shaped scar. "Oh."

"Sorry about that, I wasn't looking where I was going," he said. Later, she realized that the odd quality she heard in his voice was gloominess.

"Uh, that's alright," she said weakly. Subconsciously, she looked him over, and her mouth quirked slightly. He was a bit short for the wizarding world's hero, barely two inches taller than her, and his build was small and slightly gawky, the body of a child who'd grown too quickly. His face was really the most remarkable thing, not just because of the scar she glimpsed through a fringe of raven bangs, but also his serious mouth, and bright green eyes.

He returned the last of her books, with a frown on his face. "You're that new girl, right? The American one?" He asked.

Inwardly scowling, she nodded. Already, Evie could tell that the title of American new girl would stick for a while.

Harry looked a bit uncomfortable as he stood. "Well, have fun here."

She smiled fakely. "Thanks." He nodded and turned to leave, before she remembered something. "Wait!" Evie cried. "Where's the Transfiguration classroom?"

He laughed and proceeded to tell her which way.

*~*~*

Harry shook his head slightly to himself as he turned the corner away from the girl. In all his life, he'd barely ever heard a Yank accent, as he wasn't allowed to watch television at the Dursleys, and her voice was fascinating.

The jog to Herbology was quick, and Harry slid into his seat just as his watch told him class was starting. Professor Sprout fixed him with a critical eye but said nothing, instead launching into her traditional Welcome-Back speech, followed by an explanation of what they'd be doing that day, reviewing magic eating plants.

He let his mind wander as his hand mechanically copied down the notes on the board. He wanted to roll up his robe sleeves, to write better, but he could feel eyes on him and decided against it. He didn't want anyone seeing the scars and leaking to the presses that the Boy-Who-Lived was masochistic. Harry shuddered at the mere thought of how brutal that would be.

He focused his attention for a second on squinting at a particularly unreadable word, till Ron nudged him and showed his notes. Harry grinned and copied the word down correctly, and dove back into his thoughts with the air of an exhausted person diving back into a warm bed.

And his thoughts welcomed him back happily, throwing a thick blanket over his body and holding him close.

Harry wondered if he'd have the dream again tonight. Though he knew it was bad, he wished fervently that he'd see the girl again, and after remembering her last words, he added to his prayers that yes, he did think she was real.

_I know she is, _he thought.

*~*~*

Classes were long for all of them that day. All four were exhausted, bored, and annoyed at both the change of routine and school in general. Evie was even more miserable, Harry was ready to hex the next person who whispered and pointed as he passed, and Draco was sick of the inane chatter surrounding him.

Ginny was the least affected of the four. Sure, she was tired and and slightly homesick, but she had to deal with less. Her few friends drifted once they recognized her silence. She wasn't expected to raise her hand in class, and thus didn't. She did have slight fame (mostly pity) after the casualties of war and her brother's part in it, but it was little and focused mostly on Ron.

She passed through the halls, silent as a ghost, almost as unnoticeable as one, but it didn't really matter much anymore.

_…the fragile cocoon she had spun around herself was too warm, too comforting to break with words, and she did not respond…_

*~*~*

It was after classes before she finally met with him. Somewhere inside, Evie knew she'd been anticipating it, dreading it even, and now it was here.

Time to talk with her cousin.

"Evelyn," he drawled, his whispered voice sounding just like a soft hiss. "I've been so upset. You haven't come to see me at all."

She shifted uncomfortably and shoved him away from her, not with much ease. He was more than four inches taller than her, and significantly stronger. "Yeah, I know," she mumbled, at a loss for anything else.

They were in some classroom or corridor or something, Draco having yanked her there from the main hallway. Evie couldn't tell exactly where they were as it was dark, and she wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings, trying instead to study her fair-haired cousin.

Draco had changed so much, but so little, since she last saw him a little over a year ago. That was before the big hype about the war, and before Uncle Lucius had died and before she'd gotten expelled and so many other things. The last time she saw him, he'd been a stuck-up bastard, preparing for admittance into the Death Eater ranks. Now he looked taller, skinnier, and more serious.

"We need to talk," he growled, before reaching out and tapping the Gryffindor badge on her robe. "About this." His lip had curled in disgust. "Not to mention your damn hair, and those things in your eyebrows. You look like a bloody Muggle."

Evie knocked his hand away. "I don't have to say anything to you. You aren't my mother," Evie snapped.

Draco's eyes flashed angrily. "In case you don't remember, you are now living in my house. Hell, I own you. I could throw out on the street and no one would give a damn. Malfoy Manor is my house."

"And Hogwarts is a public school," Evie interrupted. She was getting so pissed at his attitude. She cocked her head to the side. "You know what, I don't give a damn about you. You aren't my family, you aren't my friend, you aren't even a classmate! So fuck off, Draco. I'd rather live in a cardboard box than go to your hellhole of a Death Eater nest."

Her breath whooshed out of her chest quickly as his long fingers wrapped around her throat and tightened quickly. "Shut up!" He roared in her face. "Just shut the hell up you stupid bitch! From now on, you're sodding dead to me!" The world in front of her was starting to darken and blur, fading away till all Evie could see was a bright spot of pale blonde hair and dark robes against fair skin.

_I really will be dead in a little bit if he doesn't let go, _she thought, gasping for breath and desperately trying to claw his hands away. He tightened his hands again, and Evie made a feeble choking noise, before he finally let go and stepped away quickly, gray eyes wide.

She collapsed on the floor, wheezing heavily and coughing. She knew she should be retaliating somehow, but she couldn't seem to gather the energy to even move. Slowly, her vision came back and Evie felt like she could breathe again, and she looked up for her cousin.

He was standing at the doorway, back turned towards her and outlined in light. His hair glowed almost silver, and his skin looked pure white. Dazedly, she wondered if angels ever looked like him. Finally, his voice cut into her thoughts, quiet and pensive.

"I don't want anyone to know you're my cousin," Draco said softly. "It could be bad for both of us." And with that, he was gone in less than the blink of an eye.

Evie stayed in that room for a long time, and even though the bruises faded eventually, she never forgot his last words or the way he'd looked like a fallen angel afterwards.

*~*~*

Man was this melodramatic…but I've been rather angst-inspired this week so here's what you get. 

__

…the fragile cocoon she had spun around herself was too warm, too comforting to break with words, and she did not respond…

-This is from the book, _Thousand Pieces of Gold_, by Ruthanne Lum McCunn


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